Mysterious Graffiti
by Michaelmas54
Summary: Knowing something terrible will happen in the future but being unable to warn anyone without risking your own existence is the dilemma facing Edward, but he decides to take that risk because for once in his life he cares. There's a stealthy build-up to an exciting and terrifying climax for our Twilight characters. Awarded 2nd place 'Best Fic for 2018' by TwiFanfictionRecs.
1. Chapter 1

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI**

What would _you_ do if you found out that an event that had the potential to be devastatingly life-changing for thousands of people was about to happen, but you weren't able to do or say anything to anybody without risking your life or liberty.

This is Edward's dilemma, but for the first time in his life, his own well-being is not his only priority.

This is a Twilight story set in Seattle and is rated M for all the usual reasons. There will be lots of drama, a touch of angst, a nice dose of romance, a few laughs and plenty of excitement along the way.

 **Disclaimer: Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer - I just have a lot of fun with them. I hope you do too. Enjoy x**

* * *

 **Prologue:**

 **October 2016**

His cell phone was dead, so he dropped it back in his jacket pocket and took a guess it must be somewhere between five and six in the morning by now. The air temperature had noticeably dropped in the last half hour indicating dawn was approaching, so he figured he'd been out here for at least five hours, possibly more.

From where he was floating about half a mile from the shore, the familiar hum of the city on the horizon, which on most nights was faintly audible even at this distance and hour, was strangely absent. Even the gulls were silent tonight, so the only sound breaking the absolute stillness in the freezing, moist air, was the constant slap of waves against the side of the boat, and the groaning, creaking noises the hull was making as it drifted aimlessly in the water.

Above him was a clear, moonlit sky, drenched in velvety cobalt. Bright enough to conceal all but the most brilliant stars but deep enough to allow the 21st century glass and concrete monoliths filled with wasteful light, to stand out like beacons against the blackness of the distant hills, while illuminating the sprawling urban landscape which stretched across the familiar coastline.

As he gazed at the city that had been his home for the past thirteen years, the natural force of a seventh wave rocked the boat from behind. His body lurched forward and his hands instinctively gripped his seat, even though there was no danger of him being tipped into the water as the jolt would only be considered a ripple to experienced sailors like him. The soft light of the full moon glinted off the slow moving peaks of the dark surface of the sea, which allowed his eyes to easily follow the trajectory of the guilty, black wave as it rolled gently towards the shore, until the next seventh wave hit the boat even harder, breaking the mesmerising spell the undulating water had on him.

It was plainly obvious to him the tide was turning and the moon was losing her influence on the pull of the waves, which in turn meant his boat would soon be dragged inland if he allowed it to drift for much longer. He sighed as he realised the moment had come when he would have to make the return journey, even though he was still no closer to coming to terms with what he'd learned approximately five hours ago, which was why he had sought the solitude offered by the dark and deserted ocean in the first place.

He had always been respectful of the power of the sea, which was patently obvious to anyone who lived near it or sailed on it, even on the most tranquil of nights. He'd experienced its tremendous energy and witnessed its destructive force while on land and from various boats, but tonight Neptune and his nymphs weren't interested in testing his skills to the limit as the gods of the water were graciously allowing him to drift unbothered on the serene surface. But his experience as a sailor meant he was only cautiously confident there was no immediate danger. A curious whale could decide to surface directly beneath his small vessel and knock him into the sea, which would be a first for him but not an uncommon occurrence in this area.

He glanced over his shoulder at the twinkling shore behind him, where the wealthy residents of Bainbridge Island were no doubt sleeping peacefully in their sought-after properties, comfortable in the knowledge that their ludicrously expensive real estate was growing more and more valuable year-on-year. To his right was Vashon Island, almost completely invisible in the darkness; its comparatively lightless shore melding into the darkness of the mainland directly behind it. Beyond the island and rising above everything else in its vicinity, either man or nature-made, and totally dominating the endless horizon, the icy summit of Mount Rainier sparkled in the moonlight; her huge mass dwarfing all that lay within sight of her impressive snow-covered slopes.

Rainier, the undisputed Queen of the Cascades and the highest peak in the Pacific Northwest. Any human would clearly have a heart of stone if he or she wasn't moved by her magnificence. Her brooding presence loomed over the sprawling landscape surrounding her, reminding anyone who was aware of her history that she had the ability to erase from the face of the earth the vibrant city nonchalantly residing in her shadow, if she had a mind to.

He stared at the dormant volcano in wonder, as if he had only just noticed and appreciated her proximity to his home before. When he turned his gaze back to the city, he pondered whether the light-hearted and happy-go-lucky residents of Seattle disregarded the danger that living within striking distance of the most dangerous weapon in Mother Nature's arsenal posed, like the residents of Vesuvius had back in 79 AD.

Like Seattle, the ancient Italian town had been recklessly built in the shadow of an active, smoking volcano, and had grown in wealth and prosperity until the day Vesuvius exploded and consumed everything and everyone in a pyroclastic cloud of ash and pumice. He shuddered as he recalled his visit to Pompeii some years ago, where he had observed the plaster reconstructions of the twisted bodies of several of Pompeii's residents which almost two-thousand years ago had been turned to ash; imagining what agony they must have gone through before death relieved them of their suffering.

These grotesque relics were unashamedly displayed for the voyeuristic and, some might say, morbid delight of tourists who visited the ancient site, and he recalled shaking his head in disbelief at the complacency of people who day by day traipsed past these pathetic objects. Either they were completely oblivious as to the current status of Vesuvius, or were totally unconcerned that the same volcano that petrified these bodies was, at that precise moment, smouldering ominously less than five miles from where they stood.

As he thought about a similar catastrophe happening to a 21st century city like Seattle, he knew it would be virtually impossible for the same type of disaster to happen today. Seismologists using state-of-the-art equipment constantly monitored Rainier and other active or dormant volcanoes for warning signs of an impending eruption, which meant the carefree residents of Seattle and other similar cities could carry on with their daily lives, blissfully content in the knowledge they would receive adequate warning if their slumbering neighbour suddenly awoke and decided to blow its top. Their city would probably be destroyed but the loss of life would be minimal.

He dragged his eyes away from Rainier and viewed the city once more, fixing his stare on the aircraft warning beacon flashing on top of the Space Needle, rather than allowing his gaze to traverse the length of the horizon and risk being distracted by anything of note happening on the shore. He needed to concentrate. He'd come out here to think and hopefully make sense of the disturbing information he'd learned several hours ago. He'd got over the initial shock and had almost come to terms with it, but now he had to decide what to do about what he'd learned, which if true, would be life-changing.

He had no reason to doubt the person who had inadvertently disclosed what she had obviously been trying to keep from him, but what to do with that knowledge was what was tearing him apart. How could he carry on with his day-to-day life and function like a normal citizen knowing what he now knew? How could he tell anyone else what he knew without disclosing the part of his life which he kept private to anyone outside his family? More importantly though, if he told anyone, who in their right mind would believe him?

He placed his head in his hands and squeezed his temples as if he was trying to erase from his brain what he had learned, but he knew for certain he would never be able to forget, or even ignore what he now knew. The only decision he had to make was to either do _something_ or do _nothing,_ and if it was _something_ , what to do and how to do it, and also whether taking that proactive decision would have an irreversible impact on his own life. He laughed to himself then as whether or not he did anything at all, his life was going to change whichever road he took.

If she'd known for a while, he was at a loss why she'd kept it from him. How long _had_ she known? Had _she_ decided to do anything about it? Had she told anyone else? These questions were still scrambling his thoughts as the light from the Space Needle bored into his brain.

He'd only been aware for five hours of what she'd been keeping secret for … he didn't know how long, but he couldn't think of any reason why she hadn't told him straightaway. She must have realised he would find out eventually as it was virtually impossible for her to keep anything from him, so why she had chosen to keep it to herself was a mystery. He knew he needed to confront her and to question her for more information, but before that event he would have to take the irrevocable decision whether or not to take any action on his own.

Then he wondered whether she would try and prevent him from doing anything by informing on him. That would be catastrophic of course, so if he did do something he would have to be covert in his actions so no-one knew it was him, including her. But how could he do this without attracting attention?

He'd spent most of his life trying not to stand out and doing everything he could not to be noticed; in other words he had successfully avoided becoming 'someone'. He was supremely talented at his craft but he had never sought fame. He just wanted to live a mediocre and anonymous life in the shadows. He was happier with his life now than he had been at any other period, but already he had accepted that whatever decision he made, he would have to re-think his future sooner rather than later and this knowledge depressed him greatly because for once he had a purpose; something to live for; something that made him happy.

As the boat bobbed on the water and his mind dissected every possible scenario, the sky gradually brightened and consequently the brilliance of the lights of the city lost their dominance as the first hint of morning touched the hills in the east. As he began to think about returning, he was jolted out of his musings by the blaring horn of the first Bainbridge ferry of the day to make the crossing to the mainland. From past experience he was aware he would have to rapidly move away from the busy shipping lanes which were marked out by buoys, before he was mown down by something much larger than his tiny-by-comparison vessel.

He sighed as he reached over to the ignition switch and flipped it up. Instantly the boat's motor sprang to life and filled the air with a deafening roar, which after the peace and tranquillity of the previous hours sounded harsh and abrasive to his ears. His long, slim fingers gripped the smooth, polished steering wheel which was icy to the touch, but he ignored the pain as his mind was still fixed on his unresolved problem.

As the boat picked up speed, he had to turn sharply to avoid hitting a buoy which he hadn't spotted until he was almost on top of it as its warning light had been smashed. As he passed it on his left, he noticed it had been vandalised by someone who obviously didn't like a local politician, as a derogatory message had been painted onto the floats. His boat made an impressive spray as he swerved it out of the way and he spun around the buoy several times to make note of its serial number so he could report it to the authorities, but also for a bit of fun as he enjoyed performing 'donuts', especially if he had passengers he wanted to impress.

As the beautiful white and silver craft bounced across Elliott Bay heading towards land, the bitter morning air stung his face and ruffled his already unkempt hair. But he wasn't concentrating on the journey as the first seeds of an idea were beginning to gather momentum in his head. As the outline expanded and became in his mind achievable, he began to feel tentatively hopeful that for the first time since he'd run from her to the jetty he may have found an answer to his dilemma.

If what he was contemplating were possible, it would need careful planning and preparation and he would need to be stealthy and secretive, but it could possibly be the only chance he had to do something, and he had come to the conclusion that whatever the consequences for himself, he _had_ to do something.

The powerful motorboat cut effortlessly through the water on its return journey, weaving its way through a phalanx of early-morning sailors who were waiting patiently in their skiffs and dinghy's for the first rays of sunshine to appear from behind the hills which would bring with them the wind and warmth required to fill their fluttering and snapping sails. As he turned towards land and approached the familiar stretch of water which led to his home, he could see her sitting on the wooden landing which jutted out from the bank; her bare feet dangling over the edge but still at least six feet clear of the water. She raised her head when she saw him approaching but she didn't smile or wave, but waited for him to come alongside the jetty and secure the boat.

She stared at him hard and he returned her stare, knowing she was searching his face for clues as to what he was thinking. She spoke first.

"So you know?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything you want to ask me?"

"Only how long you've known."

"About a week for definite, but I've suspected for a while."

"Were you going to tell me?"

"Eventually."

"I presume when it was too late for me to do anything about it."

"I suppose so."

"Aren't you going to ask me whether _I'm_ going to do anything about it, now I know?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not sure yet whether I want to know what you're thinking."

He scratched his head as he digested her response before asking the next question.

"Are you going to tell anyone else?"

"Yes, but not yet. Are you going to spill the beans anyway?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I don't know _anything_ at the moment, apart from I just want you to be totally honest with me. Tell me the whole story. Tell me everything you know and then I can decide what to do, if anything."

"Alright, and if it makes you happier, I'll also promise to tell you immediately if anything changes between now and then. Deal?"

"Deal."

He clambered onto the jetty and sat down next to her, pulling her into his side and giving her a lingering kiss on the top of her head. She sighed and grabbed hold of his free hand and laced her fingers with his, not caring they were still icy cold.

"We'll be okay, won't we, Edward?"

"Yes, we'll be fine, Alice, but what about everyone else?"

"I don't know. Nothing's cast in stone, so maybe there's some way. Only time will tell."

They sat on the landing as the sun slowly crept up the sky and the thick mantle of dew coating the immaculately kept lawns on either side of their private inlet sparkled in the morning light. As the air warmed and the dew melted she told him all she knew, starting with when she had begun to suspect, which was almost six months ago. When she'd finished her story they sat in silence as he digested what he'd learned, and he was now even more determined to formulate a plan. What he had in mind though was risky, but most importantly he knew he couldn't do it on his own; he would need her help if it was going to work.

Whether or not she would be prepared to become involved he couldn't guess at this time, so he would have to present her with a clear and concise plan once he had got the details straight in his head and then convince her to help. If she refused, there was no point in him starting this journey.

Fortunately for both of them, time was on their side.

* * *

 **MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER ONE**

 **Bella's Story**

 **Monday 24th April 2017**

I'm standing on the curb of 5th Avenue swallowing hard, attempting but failing to get rid of a massive lump lodged in my throat. I know I've got no other option, but I can't find the will to take the final but hardest steps of a journey that effectively started three months ago, which has culminated in me being somewhere I _really_ don't want to be.

If that asshole was a living, breathing being, I would cheerfully murder the bright green walking-man who's encouraging me to cross the street. He's taunting me, the bastard. He knows this is my last chance to run away screaming in the opposite direction. If I don't escape now, I'll be submitting myself to being totally consumed by the sixty-six storey monster towering above me. It's filled my field of vision since I turned onto 5th Avenue, like a threatening, abusive middle finger, and I really don't want to get any closer.

This isn't what I'd planned for my life after almost three years of intense study. I should be flitting between one European city and another, soaking up knowledge from museums and art galleries, spending endless hours investigating and researching so I could write books about the loves of my life. Instead, I'm standing on the windy sidewalk of 5th Avenue in downtown Seattle, trying to pluck up the courage to enter the city's municipal building, to start a job which is so far removed from my dream career ... as ... as ... as ... the coffee-making responsibilities of the Starbucks' _Barista_ who served me my hazelnut latte yesterday afternoon.

"I really, really, shouldn't be here; there must be some other way," I mutter to myself. "I just need a saviour, or some sort of sign from above which will convince me I don't really need to do this."

I feel my cell phone vibrate in my pocket so I clumsily take a step back from the curb and collide with a smartly-dressed woman who gives me a filthy look because I've stepped on her foot.

"Shit, shit, shit; who the hell's messaging me now?" I mutter after apologising profusely to the injured pedestrian who's now limping towards the very building I'm heading for.

I drag my embarrassingly ancient cell from my pocket and flip it open, hoping it's the imaginary saviour I've been praying for, but I sigh when a familiar number is displayed on the cracked screen. I hit the button and read the heartfelt message sitting there and the lump jumps back in my throat and almost chokes me. He's thanking me for everything; for putting my life on hold and for not following my dream. He knows what I've given up to be with him and he's grateful, and he says he loves me.

I wipe my hand across my eyes, and I'm thankful I don't need to wear mascara or I'd look like a Giant Panda by now, then tap a brief response and turn the phone off so I don't have to look at the image on the screen which reminds me of what I've lost. I take a deep breath and return to the curb then wait with the other worker-ants for the annoying green man to appear again so I can walk towards my doom in safety.

 _"Okay, Bella, you can do this. Just get a grip – it's not the end of the world."_

I inadvertently say this out loud, and get a weird glance from a slightly scruffy young man who seems to be heading in my direction. I follow him along the street, past yet another Starbucks, then across Columbia Street and finally through the etched glass doors which open automatically as we approach. He sprints towards the elevators where he slides into one just as the gleamingly shiny doors close, leaving me to wander over to the reception desk so I can make myself known before I'm obliged to follow him and all the other worker ants up the icy tower that's about as welcoming as _Isengard._

The over-friendly receptionist hands me a security pass which miraculously was ready and waiting for me, plus a map of the building showing my floor, then wishes me good luck. I mumble a 'thank you' as I unhurriedly stroll across the marble floor and stand amongst a small, silent crowd who are gathered waiting for the next available elevator which arrives after two to three minutes. While I'm standing there, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my blood pressure throbbing in my ears and my temperature starting to rise. If I was thirty years older I would think I was having a heart attack or a stroke, so I'm guessing this is what a panic attack feels like.

I wriggle my way into the confined space while trying not to make eye-contact with my fellow travellers, most of whom resemble lifeless zombies from The Walking Dead, but it is Monday morning I suppose. After stopping at practically every floor, the elevator opens on the twenty-fifth, which is the one I've been informed houses Seattle's Public Utilities Department. I'm met by a smiling, casually-dressed, tall, ginger haired and heavily tattooed receptionist who I guess is roughly my age and who has obviously been waiting to greet me.

"Hi, Isabella. Welcome to S.P.U., or _Spew_ as its better known." She giggles at her own joke and I can't help but smile. Her voice is musical and carries a faint but familiar accent just in those few words. She bounds over to me and grabs rather than shakes my hand.

"You don't mind me calling you Isabella, do you?" she gushes boisterously. "We're all on first-name terms here. I'm Kirsty."

"Hi Kirsty," I reply in a hopefully friendly tone. "I prefer being called Bella if that's okay?" I add, then enquire, "Is _everyone_ on first name terms here; even the boss?"

"Ach yeah. We may be government employees, but we're not stuffy like some departments in this building. You don't have to power-dress to be good at your job and we all work as hard as the suited brigade in HR or Finance."

"Great," I respond genuinely as having a relaxed dress-code pleases me no end because my closet at the moment is tragic.

"We like to have fun as well," Kirsty continues enthusiastically, "and it really helps morale as we see the least glamorous side of Seattle life. If the Mayor or any of the big cheeses honors us with their presence, then we'll refer to you as Ms Swan, but until that happens you're just Bella. Anyway, let me take you to your office so you can chill before the staff meeting at ten. I'll show you where to get coffee and where the loo and the fire escapes are and then later on I'll run through the safety procedures with you."

"Safety procedures?" I query.

"Yep! Ever since 9/11 all tall buildings are supposed to have regular evacuation drills. Also we're in an earthquake zone, but this building is okay up to at least an 8.5."

"Ah right, I know all about earthquakes, Kirsty. I was in Italy when there was a big one not far from where we were staying, just outside Florence."

"Italy! Oh God, I'd love to go to Italy. All those gorgeous looking, stylish men with that fabulous, sexy accent. Are they really like that?"

"Yep, the men are very smart and good looking, but some of them tend to be quite short. I'm five-five, and even without heels I could look many of them in the eye."

"Och no. I'm five-eight. No chance for me then."

I admit I'm giggling as I take my jacket off and begin to feel relaxed already. Kirsty's friendly welcome has taken the edge off my mood and brightened the oppressive cloud of gloom that's been hovering over me for the past few months. But it'll take more than a cheery receptionist to make me enthusiastic about what lies ahead of me.

I quickly look around my new office which has a wonderful view over the city but unfortunately not towards Elliott Bay and the Olympic National Park. I notice there are two desks; one littered with paperwork and unwashed coffee cups, the other pristine. I hope mine is the latter.

"You've got an accent, Kirsty. Are you Scottish?" I ask as she turns to leave.

"Yes and no. My parents are from Fife but I was born in Seattle and haven't made it to Scotland yet. Mom and dad still have strong, thick accents, so I mimic their phrases, like 'och' and 'aye' and the bathroom is the 'loo' in my world, and of course I've inherited the red hair and freckles.

I chuckle again as I sense I'm definitely going to get on with this girl, especially as we now have something in common.

"Fife! I exclaim. "I spent nearly eight months there at St Andrew's University as part of my degree course."

"Wow! Really? What's it like – I've never been, obviously."

"Fu… freezing! Sorry – I've answered that question so many times I automatically curse. Scotland is beautiful but so cold, especially on the east coast. I love it though. I hope you can get there one day."

"Me too. Anyway, just give me a minute to check there isn't anyone waiting at reception and I'll be back to show you around."

"Thanks, but before you go, who am I sharing with?"

"A guy called Jay. He's okay – no sense of humor but I'm sure you'll get on with him. Back in a jiffy."

After Kirsty the Whirlwind disappears, I turn around on the spot a couple of times so I can take in my new surroundings. At least my office is warm and clean, apart from my absent colleague's desk, and I can stare at the view if I get bored, but it's still a modern box - not an ornate 19th century gallery where I could travel back in time and summon up the souls of the painters and sculptors whose works are displayed in the silent halls. I shake my head to dislodge these images as I can sense tears forming in my eyes again and take a deep breath to calm myself. The last thing I want is for Kirsty or anyone else to suspect I'm a blubbering mess.

"Hopefully this is only temporary," I muse in an attempt to placate myself, but then a wave of remorse washes over me as I contemplate the implications of those five unfortunate words.

"Good morning."

I can't help jumping when I hear a man's voice behind me. I spin on my heel to see who has interrupted my selfish thoughts. Standing in the doorway holding a steaming mug of coffee, is the slightly dishevelled young man who crossed the road with me. I can tell he's assessing me, but definitely not in a creepy way. He slowly walks towards me with his other hand outstretched and a warm smile on his face.

"Hi, I'm Jay. Welcome to the pleasure dome."

"Bella Swan; pleased to meet you. Are you a Frankie fan by any chance?"

"No, I'm not, but Kirsty is," he replies. "That's what she calls this place for some reason, or Spew which I prefer and I'll tell you why later. Frankie Goes to Hollywood 'frankly' isn't my musical taste."

"What is your taste, or is it too personal a question to ask since we've only just met?"

Jay sort of grins at me and scratches his head while he decides whether to part with information about himself only ten seconds into our working relationship.

"You shouldn't have to ask, Bella. Nirvana, obviously; Seattle is Grunge-City."

I nod my head as Jay might as well have 'grunge' tattooed on his forehead. He does have a 'Cobain' look about him as his fair hair is long and stylishly unkempt.

"Nirvana was a bit before my time, Jay, but I don't think I would've been a fan. I much prefer classical music to today's pop."

Jay gives me a surprised look then wanders over to the cluttered desk, clears a space so he can put his mug down, flings his jacket over the back of his chair then drops down into it. He nudges his mouse and the screen flashes into life. I can see a list of unopened emails and wonder whether these are new messages, or ones left over from last week. I don't know yet what Jay's job title is as there aren't any clues on his desk, or a name-plate on the door. I'm sure I'll find out pretty soon what he's responsible for.

Looking at the way the desks are arranged, I'm surprised he hasn't bagged my vacant desk as mine has a much better view over the city. I have to ask the question.

"Do you prefer to sit away from the window, Jay? I only ask as I would've swopped desks if I'd been sitting at yours."

Jay's turns his head towards me and gives me another odd expression, like I'm mad or something.

"Seattle's a shithole, Bella. Why would I want to look at that dump all day?"

"Pardon!" I respond and I know I sound shocked.

"You're not a city girl, are you?"

"No, I'm from Forks, why?"

"Do you know the city well?"

"No, not really; what I mean is I know the Pike Place Market area and the waterfront, and I've been to quite a few Mariners and Seahawks games with my dad. I've been up the Needle as well and seen the whole city from up there. I would never refer to Seattle as a shithole though."

"Well, Isabella Swan from Forks, I'm afraid you're going to see another side of Seattle when you start working here, and I'm afraid you're in for a nasty shock."

"Oh!" I respond as I can't think of anything to say in Seattle's defense. I only moved into my tiny studio apartment on Saturday evening and hadn't had a chance to have a proper look around and make my own assumptions about the city. I just hoped Jay was exaggerating as I didn't need any more negativity in my life at the moment.

Jay spins his computer screen around so he can show me the list of emails he was looking at.

"Do you know what these are, Bella?"

I shake my head as I guess just 'stating the bleeding obvious' wouldn't be the answer he's looking for.

"These are messages from irate residents or businesses complaining because some out of work, irresponsible, idiotic, probably drugged-up-to-the-eyeballs half-wit, has plastered graffiti all over their property and they want it sorted immediately if not sooner. This is just what's come in over the weekend. Like I say, Seattle's a shithole, but our new, trendy, down-with-the-kids, barking-mad Mayor seems to think this is 'Art', and that these youngsters are just 'expressing themselves', which I'm sure is why you've been hired. The world's gone fucking mad."

"Oh!" I say again and instantly feel the urge to pick up my purse, grab my jacket and make a bee-line for the elevator. I'm _saved_ by Kirsty who bursts into the office and links her arm through mine and drags me out into the corridor.

"Don't listen to Jay," she says very loudly to ensure he can hear her. "He's a miserable S-O-B. He listens to Kurt Cobain every weekend so has to offload all the melancholy that's been absorbed into his wretched soul onto anyone who crosses his path _every_ _Monday_ _morning_. DON'T YOU JAY," she shouts even louder.

"Eff-off you Scottish harpy," he retorts, and I can hear a trace of humour in his voice which cheers me slightly.

Kirsty shows me where to make coffee and where the restrooms, the photocopiers and the fire and emergency escape plans are, then walks me around the department so I can say a fleeting 'hello' to the rest of the staff who vary in age but all seem very pleasant.

One thing I have learned though from all the friendly and supportive comments I've received from my new colleagues is that I've already got an alternative job title. In other words instead of being known as Isabella Swan, Urban Arts Consultant, which was how the job was described on the internet, I'll apparently only be referred to as …

 **'Isabella Swan – Graffiti Queen'.**

This is _not_ how I thought my life would turn out.

* * *

 **I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter. It's quite a long one, but I wanted to set up both sides of the story. Most of the chapters are long as I prefer to give readers a good chunk of the story at once when it's being uploaded.**

 **Bella obviously has something going on in her life which has forced her to take a job she doesn't want. You'll find out very soon what it is. We'll be staying with Bella's story for a while, but Edward will be loitering around every chapter until he takes over the tale.**

 **I never ask/beg/plead for reviews, but I do love getting them and hearing your comments on how the story is going, especially if you'd like to guess where it's heading. In this case what is the secret that Edward has found out from Alice? Hmmmmm!**

 **Joan x**


	2. Chapter 2

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWO**

* * *

All eyes are fixed on me when the Head of Department, Jim O'Rourke, formally introduces me at the Monday morning staff meeting. I can't bear being the centre of attention and can feel my face bursting into flames of embarrassment when he reads aloud my reasons for applying for the job, quoting paragraphs pulled straight from my online application which I presumed would be confidential.

He clears his throat before launching into his speech while I squirm in my chair.

"Guys, this is what Bella wrote in her résumé, which is what convinced us she's the person we were looking for ….

 _"I have just completed a History of Art degree where I was fortunate to have the opportunity to travel to Europe to study the works of many famous artists and sculptors. Part of the course was devoted to experts in both genres who were 'avant-garde'; in other words ones who had experimented using new methods and techniques and had pushed away from the established boundaries that had constrained art for centuries. I found this area of study exciting and challenging._

 _A tutor who inspired and guided me believed that tomorrow's Picasso's or Dali's could possibly be today's street or graffiti artists, and therefore 'Street Art' should not be dismissed as worthless. I witnessed many examples of stunning artwork which had been preserved by the more enlightened city authorities, for instance in Paris, Copenhagen and Zurich, to name a few. Some were aesthetically pleasing and others were socially challenging. Quite a few were just plain amusing, put there to lift the spirits of the local community, especially in areas of social deprivation._

 _I was moved by the creativity of these artists and at the same time saddened to learn that some cities systematically erased all street art before evaluating its worth, as it was automatically classed as 'graffiti' at best, or just plain vandalism._

 _When I heard that this position was being advertised, I was thrilled to learn that a major city close to my home was following the example of the enlightened cities I'd visited, and was considering preserving examples of street art that had importance, either because of the skill of the artist or the message that was given._

As Jim is reading my words to the staff I'm staring at the floor, trying to avoid eye-contact with my fellow colleagues. I'm hoping none of them can guess what I'm thinking, or notice me wincing at certain sentences, because what I'd written on my application was complete bullshit. Yes, I had studied at universities in New York and Scotland and it was true I'd travelled around Europe as part of my course, but not quite as extensively as I'd made out, but I had absolutely zero-interest in street art; I just needed employment in Seattle. The shear fluke of finding a job even remotely to do with 'Art' was a complete bonus. The fact that I'd been offered the job was a miracle.

When I finally look up to see the reaction of my colleagues I spot Jay staring at me curiously and I just know he can see right through the BS, probably because he heard me muttering to myself when we were crossing the street together. The corner of his mouth turns up in a sort-of smirk before he shouts out a question.

"Bella, for the benefit of everyone here, in your opinion what constitutes _important_ graffiti and could you give us an example of the type of street art that should be preserved?"

I hesitate before answering as I'm guessing Jay will be antagonistic towards anything I say, as he'd already made it plain to me he considered Seattle to be a shithole and wasn't a fan of graffiti in any form. I take a quick drink of water which gives me a few extra seconds to think about what to say before replying.

"To start with, anything that makes you stop and look twice. Anything that makes you think. Anything that takes a lot of skill to draw, or anything that makes you smile. There's hundreds, maybe thousands, of frustrated artists out there who can't get their work seen or displayed anywhere, so sometimes a wall or a fence is their only option. For instance, have any of you heard of _Shepard Fairey?"_

I wait for a reaction but there's nothing, which isn't surprising really.

"He was the guy who painted the famous stylised picture of Obama with the word 'Hope' underneath. He was a street artist before he got his first commission."

There were still a lot of blank faces and shaking heads. I took a deep breath and went for the obvious.

"Some of you must've heard of _Banksy,_ haven't you? ... Anybody? ... Jay?"

Jay and a few of the others nod their heads but I can see most of the staff still have blank expressions on their faces so I dive into a description of the one and only street artist I know a lot about.

"For those of you who haven't heard of Banksy, he's a British street artist whose work has become internationally famous and consequently helped move this genre into the mainstream."

Still no reaction, possibly because I sound as though I'm reading from a script, which to a certain extent I am as fortunately I'd had to read up on him as part of my course. I continue a bit more enthusiastically.

"Banksy's stencilled pictures appear overnight on random walls in random places anywhere in the world. Some are meant to shock and some are humorous and quirky, but the vast majority of them convey strong political and social messages aimed at governments and big corporations. His work is revered now and it's become extremely valuable. Believe it or not it's occasionally lifted from its original position and sold for ridiculous sums of money. So, if you're lucky enough to have your wall targeted by Banksy, your property would shoot up in value by many thousands of dollars."

"Have you seen a Banksy?" Jay asked.

"Yes, I've seen quite a few of them in London and Bristol and a couple of them in Europe. He's also targeted cities as far afield as Melbourne, Mali, the West Bank in Israel, Ontario and New York. If any of you want to see examples of his work without getting out your chair, you can see most of them on the internet."

"Has he ever been arrested for vandalism?" a girl called Jenny calls out from the back.

"No, because no-one really knows who he is," I reply. "He uses stencils and spray paint so he can put the art on the wall in very quick time and no-one sees him doing it."

"But you said his work is worth thousands," a guy who I'd already forgotten what his name was shouted out, also from the back of the room.

"It is worth thousands; hundreds of thousands in some instances. It belongs to whoever owns the wall it's painted on, so even if the owner of the wall catches him doing it, he or she's hardly going to stop him or call the police. He doesn't get a bean for doing it either and never claims ownership. He's written books and made movies and apparently he's a rich man, but that's it. His identity is a closely guarded secret but there are some strong clues on the internet who he is. While I was living in Britain, if ever a new Banksy appeared it was reported on the main evening news, which is crazy. Can you think of any other artist alive today who has that sort of pulling power?"

There was a chorus of 'wows' and other comments when I stop speaking and I'm pleased I've managed to answer Jay's question by pulling out the name of the only world-renowned street artist I could think of on the spur of the moment.

Jim took over the conversation at that point.

"I'm sure you'll all be able to talk to Bella about Banksy and other street artists another time."

"Thanks," I mutter and for a brief moment I'm relieved that the spotlight has come off me, but Jim hadn't finished.

"To be honest, Bella, when the Mayor proposed taking someone on to give an expert opinion on the graffiti that seems to be springing up all over the city, a few eyebrows were raised in this department. Our Mayor is a controversial figure and some of us feel the city's stretched finances could be better spent elsewhere, so we're relying on you to convince not just us, but the tax-paying residents of Seattle as well, that there's merit behind your appointment."

"No pressure then," I respond cheerily, trying to make a joke of it, but I'm livid Jim has said this in front of the staff as he's basically implying I have to prove myself to everyone to justify my pay check. Luckily and surprisingly Jay jumps to my defense.

"Give it a rest, Jim. She's here to do a job for the Mayor for which she's more qualified than any of us to do. I loathe graffiti in any form, but I'm prepared to watch and learn. Hopefully one day she'll convince me that what I consider to be blatant vandalism is actually art. There may be a Banksy in Seattle, who knows? If there is, I hope he or she vandalises _my_ wall so I can retire and live on Bainbridge Island like the Mayor. Then I'll only have to look at this shithole from a distance."

The staff all chuckle at his comment which is followed by a few "yeah, mine too," or similar responses from around the room.

Despite the negativity which seemed to be seeping out of every one of his pores when we were in the office, I think I have an ally in Jay and we'll be a good team. He'll be the steadying influence which will curb my enthusiasm, which I hope will eventually come when I get into the job as I guess I'll probably want to preserve everything I see to start with.

The meeting lasts another half hour where Jim goes through some targets for the week, which are solely to do with other areas of responsibility the Public Utilities Department covers, like garbage, water and drainage and the other less-glamorous aspects of running a big city. I'm trying to look interested but to be honest I just want to go back to my office and cry.

Jim closes the meeting by wishing everyone a good week and reminding everyone that the next staff meeting would be in their usual bar at the waterfront from 5pm on Friday, "but there's no obligation to attend if you've somewhere else to be," he adds afterwards probably for my benefit. Even though it would be nice to mix socially with the staff, who really do look like a friendly bunch, I doubt whether I'll be able to go as I'll be travelling back to Forks on Friday evening, and as I have to rely on ferries and buses I'd need to set off straight from work.

As I'm heading back to my office with Jay, Jim calls out to me and asks to see me so I follow him into his office which has an amazing view of the bay looking north. If this was my office I wouldn't get any work done; I'd be staring out the window all day wishing I was on the sparkling cruise ship which is docked in the terminal; dreaming that it's sitting there, waiting until I'm ready to sail back to my spiritual home in Europe, and in style.

Jim takes his seat behind the desk and immediately starts rummaging through one of the drawers as though he's searching for something. While he's distracted I look around his domain and notice there are no personal items anywhere, like photographs of a wife or kids, or anything to give a clue about who he is. I would guess he's in his late thirties or early forties; very thin and wiry with sharp features and piercing blue eyes. His hair is fair but greying at the temples and I spot he has holes in his earlobes where he used to wear earrings. His clothes are good quality but well-worn so I'm guessing he's got a small but expensive wardrobe back home then I'm jolted out of my musings by Jim's satisfied sigh.

"There they are," he says triumphantly and holds up a set of car keys.

"What are those?" I ask even though it's plainly obvious.

"Keys to your car, Bella. Didn't you know the job came with an official vehicle? I presume you can drive."

I'm struggling to keep my jaw from dropping onto my chest as I take in the implications of being the owner of the shiny objects dangling from Jim's hand. Before he has the opportunity to come to the conclusion he's hired a complete moron, I blurt out…

"Yes, yes, I can drive but no, I didn't know I was getting a car," I gasp, trying not to sound too hysterical with joy.

"How the hell did you think you were going to get around a city this size without transport then?"

"I don't know. I presumed I'd have to use public transport or cabs. Oh My God!"

"It's nothing special, Bella. Don't get too excited, please. It's just a box with a wheel on each corner; not a Ferrari."

"I don't care what it is," I say, then take a deep breath and mentally cross every finger before asking, "Jim, could I use it at weekends ….. _please_?"

"Sure, as long as you pay for your own gas and log the mileage, in other words fill up Friday night on the city's dollar then again on Monday morning on yours then show me the receipts. Would you be using it to go to Forks to visit your folks?"

"Yes, my dad still lives there."

"Okay, that's fine by me, as long as you're not off-roading through the forest of course."

"No, I won't be doing that; I promise."

Jim tosses the keys at me with a grin, gets me to sign a pile of paperwork to do with insurance and other boring stuff, then waves me away from his desk.

"Off you go then and have fun. It's got a Satnav so you shouldn't get too lost, even in this city."

"Thanks," I respond and calmly walk out of his office, but as soon as I'm out of sight and earshot I jump up and down on the spot with glee. "A car…I've got a frigging car," I quietly squeal as I can't believe my luck. I'll be able to drive home in comfort so I won't need to get ferries and buses followed by a long walk to get to the house if there are no cabs around.

"You look like the cat that's got the cream," Jay comments when I skip into the office and sling myself in my chair.

"I've got a car," I practically sing as I'm still in a state of shock.

"Great, that means you can drive me around for a change," Jay grins. "We can go out now if you like? I've got a list of outstanding 'artwork' for you to assess already. Are you up for it?"

"You bet! Let's get out of here," I reply and jump out my chair before he changes his mind. "It's a beautiful day and I need some fresh air," I add excitedly.

We grab our jackets and head for the elevators. As we plunge towards the underground parking lot, Jay's sorting through a pile of pictures and addresses he's downloaded and printed off, while I juggle with my camera and notebook trying to squeeze them into my too-small purse. When we exit into the cool, dimly lit space where there's every color, make and model of car dotted around the half-empty cavernous area, I realise with horror that due to my over-excited state, I'd totally omitted to ask Jim what type of car I'd been allocated and also I hadn't paid any attention when I was signing the documents for any indication of features like color, licence plate et cetera. I immediately panic then feel like a complete idiot.

"So which one's yours?" Jay asks.

"I don't know," I reply, cringing at my own stupidity. I examine the keys but there's nothing on them that gives me a clue, other than it's a Ford.

"Give me those," Jay says as he eye rolls then grabs the keys out of my hand and walks forward holding them high in the air. I guess what he's doing immediately and dismiss my total lack of brain-power, putting it down to being totally overwhelmed because my job has a car as part of the deal.

I jog over to the next row and then the next but none of the cars are flashing their headlights. I start to despair then hear Jay shouting "over here" from the furthest part of the lot so I race back to where I can see him waving.

He's standing next to my new wheels and I fall in love for the second time in my life. It's a cute, bright red Fiesta with black seats and shiny alloys and it's exactly what I would have chosen for myself if I had the money to buy a car. The only vehicles I'd driven before were my now-deceased high school truck back in Forks and a hire car in Scotland last summer when I drove with several friends to Skye for a holiday weekend, so I'm excited to be behind a wheel again. Jay tosses the keys at me and walks over to the passenger door and climbs in then puts his seatbelt on.

I slide in beside him and sling my bag over my shoulder onto the back seat then fiddle with my seat to compensate for my short legs. Once I'm comfortable I adjust the rear view mirror and go to start the engine, but as I'm doing this I go cold, as it suddenly dawns on me that my lovely new car has got a pedal missing, which is fundamental to whether I can drive it safely out of the parking lot.

"Shit!" I say out loud.

"What's the matter," Jay responds while he's staring at the list of addresses and the Satnav.

"It's a frigging automatic. I've only driven stick-shifts before. I haven't got a clue what I'm doing."

Jay stares at me in disbelief then bursts out laughing. He's actually weeping with mirth at my humiliation which I think is a bit OTT as it's not _that_ funny. When he calms down he offers to give me a driving lesson in the parking lot.

"It's like driving a bumper car in a fairground. It couldn't be easier, Bella. You've only got the gas pedal and the brake pedal; in other words stop and start."

"But Seattle's got a lot of hills," I whine. "When I take my foot of the brake I'll roll back before I've got the chance to hit the gas."

"No you won't; dumbass. You've got a brake-delay built in. You won't roll back unless you're not concentrating. Didn't you ever drive your parents' automatics?"

"No, my dad's a cop. I wasn't allowed to drive his patrol car. My mom lives in Florida and drives an MG with a stick shift."

"What about your friends' cars."

"Nope. I was always the designated driver 'cause I was the good girl in High School. I ended up driving everyone else around when they were either smashed or stoned. I didn't dare touch anything illegal while I was living at home 'cause dad was Chief of Police and I wouldn't have wanted to embarrass him. He would've killed me if he'd caught me touching anything I shouldn't."

"That figures I suppose. Alright. Don't panic. You'll get this in about two minutes. Put your foot on the brake pedal – no, your other foot, now move the stick out of park into drive, then take your foot off the brake then gently touch the gas pedal."

"What do I do with my other foot?" I whine again.

"Tuck it under your seat, or better still take your shoe off. That'll remind you to only use one foot."

I kick my shoe off then tentatively put my right foot on the brake pedal and move the stick into drive then hit the gas. The car lurches forward but I manage to control it and slowly move away. Inside my head I'm screaming but I don't want to show Jay how pathetic I am so I slowly increase the gas and after about thirty seconds of sheer terror I'm driving through the lot quite confidently.

After a few minutes of driving up and down the slopes, I nearly jump out my skin when Jay yells out, "Hit the brake!" which shakes me out of my smug mood.

I slam the brake on which propels us both forward in our seat belts and I look frantically around to see who I've killed because of concentrating too hard on what was ahead of me. We're on a steep slope going up to the next level and I start to panic.

"Now take your foot off the brake and hit the gas again," Jay says calmly and grins at me.

I want to punch him in the arm but I do what he says and _hey presto_ , the car doesn't roll back one inch.

"Happy now?"

"Yes, Jay," I respond in the sort of sing-song voice I always used after being told off by mom when I was thirteen.

"Feel okay to go out on the road now?"

I nod in affirmation and head for the exit but as soon as we're out on the busy street my confidence instantly nose-dives.

"Turn left at the next junction," Jay says as he picks an address from his list. "I know where this one is. It's a favourite haunt of several Picasso's."

"Hahaha," I respond sarcastically at his dig. As Jay chuckles at his joke, I'm slowly coming to the conclusion that Kirsty's comment about Jay not having a sense of humor isn't entirely accurate.

I head up a steep hill travelling away from the waterfront into an area of Seattle I've never visited before. It feels great to be out and about, which is a totally unexpected bonus as I'd expected to be tied to a desk for at least a week, familiarising myself with the job and finding out what was expected of me. The sun is shining, the air is comfortably warm so we've got the car windows rolled right down, the city is bustling with life and I'm driving a shiny little Fiesta which I'm going to name Freddie. I just need to get used to driving around the city then I think I really will be able to start enjoying this job.

After about fifteen minutes of white-knuckled/clenched teeth driving, we reach a suburb which I wouldn't be unkind enough to describe as run down; 'tired' would be a better description. Some of the shop fronts we pass are boarded up and the houses and gardens could do with some TLC, but I can tell from the width of the roads and the varieties of shrubs and trees in the parks and gardens, that this used to be an affluent area in its hey-day. The traditional _Craftsman_ style houses we pass are set in large plots and even the smaller bungalows are sturdy and well-built. I imagined the type of well-heeled people who used to live here at the beginning of the twentieth century; strolling up and down the wide sidewalks in their elegant clothes or being seen proudly driving their newly-invented automobiles.

"Turn right here," Jay says as he points to the next junction, so I swing the car right and drive for about another quarter of a mile until we reach the end of a tree-less road, where a line of fairly new industrial units are situated on one side and several parking lots occupied by second-hand cars and trucks are on the other. I spot the graffiti in question from inside the car and there's nothing artistic about what's in front of us.

Vandals with spray paint have covered a cinder block wall with words which mean absolutely nothing to me. They've also drawn a number of lewd pictures to accompany whatever their coded language means.

"Picasso or Dali!" Jay comments dryly with an added smirk.

"Yeah yeah," I respond as I stare at the desecrated wall. "Do you know what these words mean?"

"Nope, but I've seen this guy's work before. That's his tag down there."

"Tag?"

"His signature; see? Bottom right in white. This is his patch. He works in roughly a mile radius of this place."

"Do you know who he is?"

"We've got an idea, but like your Banksy he's never been caught in the act."

"So what happens now?"

"Well, unless you see some sort of artistic merit in this piece of shit, we'll sand-blast it off the wall with our specialist equipment and send the owner a bill. Then 'Donkey' can no doubt return and have a nice, clean canvas to work on again."

"Donkey?"

"That's his name. That's what his signature says. I prefer to think of him as a Jackass."

I laugh at this but I can see Jay's point. There's no skill in the mess in front of me; it's just a jumble of unintelligible scribblings and some mildly pornographic drawings. I'm sure Freud would have a field-day trying to analyse this.

I grab my purse from the back seat and take out my digital camera before clambering out the car (remembering to put it in 'park' first). I take a few photos from different angles then wander back to the car. Jay doesn't even bother getting out.

"What's your expert opinion then, maestro?" he says, not even trying to hide his contempt.

"Well, Jay, after three years of intense study at universities on both sides of the Atlantic, I can confidently announce that this is a classic example of urban shit. Blast it!"

"With pleasure," he replies grinning. "Right; onto the next one."

We spend the next three hours driving from site to site, stopping once for coffee and an awesome still-warm donut (Jay knows all the good places he says), and once more so that he could go into a vintage record shop. He didn't buy anything; he said he just liked looking and sniffing the record covers (weird). We had one last site to visit before returning to the office and had just set off when his cell starts buzzing."

"Hi Jim, I'm out with Bella. We'll be back in the office in about half an hour. What's up?"

I can't hear the other end of the conversation but Jay starts scribbling on his notepad.

"Okay, we'll drop in there on the way back. See you in about an hour."

"Where to," I ask.

"Some lunatic has vandalised the Aquarium on Pier 59. We'll go there after this stop as it's not far from the office."

"Oh, that's a shame. That's a lovely old building," I sigh. "What an asshole," I add and I really mean it.

Jay chuckles to himself before smugly commenting, "We've only been working together for about five hours and you're already started to sound like me. You'll be a miserable bastard by the end of the week, I guarantee it."

"I don't think so," I retort indignantly, but I can also see the funny side of his comment. Today has been a revelation, and I can totally understand the anger and frustration Jay feels about what we've witnessed today. There's no 'art' or skill in what we've seen at all; it's just plain and simple vandalism.

By now I'm beginning to feel tired and wish I could go back to the office rather than visit these last two jobs. I've got used to the Fiesta, but concentrating on driving a new car in an unfamiliar city has given me a pounding headache. Also, if I'd known I'd be driving today, I would've brought my sunglasses to work. Squinting into bright sunshine hasn't helped my throbbing head either.

We fly through the next job and I don't even bother getting out the car to take photos. A profane word had been scrawled across the front of an office building in bright orange and black spray-paints, so we take some details, Jay has a word with the janitor then we head for the waterfront. As we're nearing the Alaskan Way, which is the road that runs parallel to the waterfront, I tell Jay I hadn't been inside the Aquarium since I was a kid but I'd walked past it on Saturday after I'd come off the Bainbridge ferry and hadn't noticed any graffiti then. To be honest though I wasn't really looking as I was too depressed at the time, plus I didn't have the ability to be able to focus on anything other than trying to make sense of a totally useless tourist map of Seattle, which might as well have been written in Greek. I'd been vainly hoping that somehow it would guide me towards where my new apartment was situated, but I had to rely on the good people of Seattle to point me in the right direction.

We have to abandon the car some distance from the Pier as the closest public parking lot is full so we have to leave Freddie on the street. I'm initially happy about this as it's great to get out and properly stretch my legs as we haven't really had to walk any distance today. As Jay and I wander down the steep street towards the waterfront, where we can see a great view of Elliott Bay sparkling in the sunshine in front of us, I'm quickly beginning to regret my enthusiasm about walking as I'm already missing the Fiesta's icy-cool air-conditioning. The air temperature's been steadily rising during the day and I guess it's probably touching seventy-five or possibly even eighty by now, which is exceptionally warm for this time of year. The sidewalks are shimmering in the afternoon heat and the oppressive still air is definitely increasing my tiredness so I hope this visit will be a quick one.

Before crossing the busy Alaskan Way we have to walk underneath the constantly rumbling Viaduct, where we enjoy a few blissful seconds of shade and cooler air amongst the concrete uprights. We can easily see the ornately shaped roof of the iconic black and white building at the top of the Pier, and as we emerge into the sunlight the whole side of the Aquarium comes into view, and it's obvious, even from a distance, why we've been asked to come here. Once we're able to see more of the building when a gap in the crowd surrounding it allows, I can't help gasping at the sheer scale of what's been painted on one of the walls.

"Holy Shit!" Jay exclaims, as both of us stop dead in our tracks and stare, open-mouthed, at the familiar façade, where a supremely talented but no doubt anonymous artist has used it as his or her own personal canvas, and then Jay adds the surprising comment,

"Not another one."

* * *

 **So this is Bella's job, deciding what graffiti or street art is worth preserving for the Mayor. Obviously she's just come across something that's made her stop and look twice, that's probably going to make her think, and has taken a lot of skill to draw. Whether it makes her smile or not you'll have to wait and see. And who is the artist? (Yeah yeah, I think we can all guess that). Jay has definitely seen this artist's work before, so why hasn't he mentioned this to Bella?**

 **Next chapter you'll find out what's been drawn on the Aquarium wall and Bella spots a mysterious person in the crowd.**

 **Joan x**

 **PS: If you have a few spare minutes, look up Banksy's work on the internet. I regularly see one called 'There is Always Hope', which is on the South Bank in London. I've got a book of his work though (thanks, Mary)! Also, since writing this, one of Banksy's works has just 'self-destructed' after it was sold in Sotheby's Auction House in London for over a million pounds. Banksy had installed a shredding device in the picture frame and it clicked into action the second the auctioneer's hammer hit the gavel. Outstanding!**


	3. Chapter 3

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER THREE**

* * *

We're not the only people staring at the wall, as practically everyone who passes by the Aquarium stops to look at what I can only describe as a masterpiece. Its precision and life-like quality literally took my breath away when I first spotted it from a distance, and as I move closer, I'm frankly astonished at the skill of the artist or artists who've transformed a large section of the black-brick edifice into a stunning work of art.

Slightly to the right-hand side of the center-point of the Aquarium's long façade, taking up about an eighth of the length of the impressive two-storey building, is a plain, un-windowed section of wall which the artist had used as his or her canvas. The whole area, reaching up as far as the bottom edge of the adjacent windows, has been transformed into a stunning multi-colored seascape with several different types of tropical fish, lazily swimming turtles and translucent jellyfish, that seem to be idly drifting through a reef of colorful corals and gently wafting plants. Painted above the reef in an area of clear water is the focal point of the image, which is a menacing, muscular shark in a desperate tussle with a scuba-diver, and I'm staggered at just how strikingly life-like these figures are.

After taking in the whole work from a distance, I cross the busy sidewalk and follow Jay onto the pier as I'm anxious to take a closer look at the quality of the brushwork. I weave my way through the crowd gathered on the gray wooden boardwalk so I can stand with an unimpeded view in front of the mural and take in the full, astonishing effect, and I can't stop my eyes darting from one side of the painting to the other as there's so much beauty to absorb. On the left side of the panel is a shoal of dainty Angel fish, drawn so exquisitely their delicate and elegantly transparent fins twist and curl as they gently brush against the seaweed. On the right side, the mottled shells of a pair of turtles swimming above the reef are so polished, they reflect the sunlight streaming down from the surface. On the sea-bed, the vibrant corals have been skilfully drawn with incredibly precise, razor-sharp edges. These are populated by starfish and other strangely shaped sea creatures which I recognise from nature programs. All the animals are so lifelike it seems as though they're physically attached to the building, so if you wanted to, you could lift them away from the brickwork and hold them in your hands.

"How the hell did this happen so quickly," Jay mutters like he's questioning himself. I see him pull his cell phone from his pocket to take his own photographs then he adds, almost like an apology, "I was down here on Friday night and I'll swear there wasn't a lick of paint on the building then. This is insane."

"There was nothing here on Saturday afternoon either," I reply and I'm equally confused. "I'm sure I would've spotted something like this straight away," I add.

I notice Jay has turned his attention to the crowd gathered behind us and it seems to me as though he's searching for someone, which makes me slightly suspicious that he knows more about this than he's letting on.

"Have you any clue who's responsible for this?" I ask.

"I've got a vague idea as I've seen this person's work before, but this is his best one yet."

I'm instantly fuming.

"So when you said, ' _Not another one'_ , can I take it that you've seen street art like this before? In which case, why did you imply that all the graffiti and street art you'd seen so far in Seattle was worthless?"

"Look, I'll explain more when we get back to the office. You stay here and take your photos and do whatever you have to do while I go in and speak to the staff. I presume this is something you'll want to preserve if possible."

"What do you mean 'if possible?' Are you nuts?" I do the air-quotes thing as I'm surprised he's even suggesting getting rid of it.

"Bella, the Aquarium staff might ask for it to be removed and unfortunately we've got no choice but to listen to what they've got to say. They may want to keep it of course, but I'm just warning you if they don't, convincing them might not be as simple as you think."

I know my mouth has dropped open but I don't say anything as I'm new to this game and I don't know what the protocol is with this sort of situation, but I'll be damned if I'm going to allow this to be blasted out of existence. I'll definitely be protesting to the Mayor if there are any objections from the Aquarium management.

Jay disappears into the building while I take about fifty photographs - some from a distance and some close-up. I want to be able take my time examining every detail of this stunning artwork when I get back to the office so I take a picture of every inch of the mural within reach.

The shark and the scuba diver fighting for supremacy are mind-blowingly good but I'd need a ladder to be able to get to the top of the mural so I have to make do with long-shots and my zoom lens. The struggling diver is clinging to the shark and his or her air tube is floating freely, allowing bubbles of oxygen to escape and float up to the surface. The diver's teeth are biting into the shark's dorsal fin and consequently the contorting shark is thrashing wildly to shake the diver off its back. How the artist has managed to convey such movement in a 2D image is absolutely incredible.

I'm trying to work out which type of paint the artist has used when Jay returns with two members of the Aquarium staff. I can see both of them are wearing identification badges on their clothing and as they're walking towards me I can hear them arguing. It's immediately obvious the woman wants to keep the mural but the man doesn't. As they get closer I'm hoping and praying the woman has seniority or Jay's depressing prediction will probably be justified.

Jay wanders over to me while I'm putting my camera back in my purse and shrugs his shoulders.

"They can't seem to make up their minds, Bella."

"This is madness," I scoff. "This isn't graffiti - this is art, and it's stunning, _and_ the people walking by seem to like it. Why the hell did they let it be painted in the first place if they didn't want it? Someone must have worked over the weekend to create this as there's no way it's been sneakily done overnight. This must have taken hours and in daylight."

"Why don't you ask them that question then?" Jay suggests but I've a feeling from the look he's giving me he already knows the answer that's coming.

"I will," I respond forcefully and march over to where these two 'managers' are going at it hammer and tongs. Jay introduces me to them as 'Bella Swan, Urban Arts Consultant', and the man sneers at me as if I was a piece of shit on his shoe.

"What's the problem?" I ask somewhat aggressively to the middle-aged, gray-suited Philistine who I'm sure I'm going to fall out with. His badge informs me his name is Barry Jenkins, which is followed by the words 'General Manager – Happy to Help', which regretfully doesn't instil me with any level of confidence he will be at all helpful as he's scowling at me and then at the wall.

" _This_ is the problem," he hisses while vigorously wagging his finger at the mural. "I want it removed _immediately_ otherwise it'll send out a signal to every other vandal in the city that they can scrawl whatever they want on other parts of the building. If _you_ don't remove it, I will."

"A vandal hasn't done this, Barry," the young woman pleads. Her name is Madeline and she has the job title, 'Customer Relations Manager'. She speaks in a calm and gentle tone and I instantly feel sorry for her as she has a resigned look on her face, as if she's well used to talking to a brick wall all day; the brick wall in this case being Mr Barry Jenkins.

"It's beautiful, Barry; at least let's keep it for a few weeks," she continues. "It might draw visitors in, which can only be a good thing."

"No, absolutely no no no! This is my last word on the matter," Barry hisses then stomps over to Jay who's keeping his distance. "I want this removed as a priority, do you hear?"

"Might take a few weeks," Jay responds and I can tell he's trying valiantly to keep a straight face and look business-like, but Barry is slowly turning purple before our eyes, which in any other situation would be comical. "I'll put you on the list, Mr Jenkins, but it's not really graffiti is it? There's no profanity in the painting or any sort of personal attack on our local politicians, so it won't be near the top."

"Is that so?" Barry responds angrily. "In that case I'm getting on to the Mayor. I'm going back to my office right now and calling him direct, and I'll keep kicking his ass until it's removed."

With that he storms back to the building leaving me with Madeline who sighs either with despair or relief.

"I'm sorry about him," she says quietly. "He's proud of this building and its history and I can see his point to a certain extent, but this is too beautiful to destroy."

"Why didn't he stop it being painted then," I ask. "It must've taken someone a couple of days at least."

Madeline shakes her head and stares up at the mural and I know she's drinking in every detail. I guess she's probably preserving it to memory before its obliterated forever.

"I was on duty yesterday afternoon and locked the building at just gone six in the evening. There was definitely nothing there then. One of the tank divers saw it when he came in this morning at seven but didn't say anything to anyone. He told me he presumed it had been authorised. I saw it when I got in to work just before nine. Barry had a morning meeting offsite and didn't get here until about one. He was on the phone to your boss straight away."

"So it was painted in a maximum of what … thirteen hours? That's impossible. It gets dark about eight and doesn't get really light until about six. Didn't anyone see it happening?"

"Not as far as we know. This area is heaving with people until about midnight, even on a Sunday, so this would narrow the time available down to about six or seven hours max if whoever did this didn't want to be seen."

"That doesn't make sense," I reply and motion for her to walk over to the wall with me. I examine the brush strokes again looking for any evidence the artist used stencils and spray paint to speed up the process, but anybody could see the technique was too fine and he or she must have used brushes, at least for the lower sections. I'd guess he used sprays for the area of water above the corals but everything else was definitely hand painted.

As we're talking, a constantly moving audience of people are gathering behind us to take a look at the mural, and both Madeline and I can tell by their verbal reactions that, without exception, they are all appreciative of the artwork. I turn and face the crowd to take in the wonder of their expressions then I glance around the general area to see whether I can spot any security cameras pointing in this direction but draw a blank. I notice there's street lighting near to the building so there was definitely some artificial light for the artist to work with, but I can't imagine it would've been anywhere near bright enough for this type of intricate finish.

As I keep looking around for anyone or anything which would give me a clue as to how this was done, my gaze falls on a mysterious-looking guy who is standing some way away in the shadow of the viaduct. He's tall, very slim and dressed from head to toe in dark, faded gym clothing hanging loosely over his frame. Even though the air temperature is probably touching eighty by now, he's wearing an over-sized, un-zipped sweatshirt with the hood covering most of his forehead. His shoulders are broad but hunched forward and his hands are concealed in the pockets of his sweats as though he's trying to keep them warm. His head is tipped downwards hiding most of his face, so the only features I can clearly make out are his dark, piercing eyes, which at this moment are blazing at me from under his hood. I catch my breath as his mesmerizing stare is making me feel like I'm being interrogated by an ancient monk and instantly I feel uncomfortable.

He locks me in his gaze for at least five or maybe six seconds and then I probably blink, because when I look back to where he was standing a second ago there's now an empty space. He's disappeared like a puff of smoke, absorbed into the crowds of tourists and other folk pouring off one of the ferries. I wildly search the area trying to spot him again but my efforts are in vain.

"What's up?" Jay asks as he walks towards me.

I'm standing on my tip toes when he asks the question, as if two inches of extra height would help me spot the mysterious onlooker.

"I think I may have just seen the culprit. A tall guy was watching me from over there. He disappeared as soon as I spotted him."

"Black hoodie?"

"Um yeah," I reply and I'm starting to realise Jay definitely knows who's responsible for the mural. This annoys me more than slightly as I thought we'd be a team from day one, so I front him up for keeping this guy's work and identity from me as this example of street art is exactly the reason I've been appointed by the Mayor.

"Do you know who's done this and you've been stringing me along all this time?" I ask accusingly. I can tell he's picked up I'm pissed as he makes an effort to sound apologetic when he replies.

"I've seen the hoodie guy twice before but I honestly don't know who he is, Bella. He was there when I turned up at one of his efforts a couple of weeks ago, then again when I was at another which I _think_ could be his. As soon as I approach him or call out to him he disappears again. It's almost like he wants me to see him but he doesn't want to converse with me. I suppose he's wary of being arrested which I totally get. Look, I didn't get a chance to tell you about him this morning. I was planning to show you some of his murals when we got back this afternoon, but I thought you'd enjoy being out in the city first."

I feel a bit guilty then for going off at him without knowing the facts first. Jay had no idea we'd see this today so I would've been none the wiser if this one hadn't appeared. I knew I had to apologise.

"I'm sorry, Jay. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm a bit hot and bothered to be honest. It figures he would run away I suppose, but even _you_ wouldn't want him arrested, would you?"

"Probably not. If he's the artist who did this then he's definitely talented, even I would admit that, but he should be doing this on canvas and for money; not vandalising somebody else's property."

"Maybe he is already and he's doing this for a laugh? Have you ever seen his face?"

"Not close up, but I guess he must be quite young as he's very fit. I tried to chase after him both times but I couldn't catch him. As soon as I lose sight of him it's like he vanishes off the face of the earth."

"Do you think he's just doing it for the reaction? In other words, does he just like pissing you guys off?"

"I doubt it. If he wanted to piss us off, he'd just scrawl something offensive on a wall; not go into such great detail with his artwork."

I think about that statement as I turn around and look at the mural again. Madeline has returned to the building by now and I hope she's trying to talk some sense into Barry but I don't hold out much hope.

"I don't get it," I muse. "Why take all this trouble creating something so beautiful and risk getting arrested, knowing it will eventually be destroyed by our guys. It doesn't make sense."

I'm looking for clues in the subject of the painting but the sun has moved around the building and is now shining directly in my eyes. My head is still pounding relentlessly and I just want to get out of the sunlight and preferably into a cool, darkened room somewhere. I'm hoping Kirsty or someone in the office has some pills to take the pain away or I won't get through the rest of the day.

"Can we go back to the office now, Jay? I almost beg. "I've got the mother of all headaches."

"Sure," Jay answers and he sounds genuinely sympathetic. "Give me your keys; I'll drive."

I throw the keys at him and within fifteen minutes we're back inside the air-conditioned pleasure dome. Kirsty produces some Tylenol from her drawer with a flourish which thankfully takes the edge off my headache. After taking the pills with one of her herbal teas, which she insists I drink in front of her, I start to feel almost human again.

"Come and look at these," Jay says when I wander back to the office after being 'Kirsty'd'.

"What are they?" I ask as Jay flicks through a file of stored photographs on his computer.

"Some of these are Hoodie Guy's previous works. There's a couple from a while ago that could possibly have been his but they've already been removed, but I keep photos of every call out, good or bad. They're evidence for future court cases if we catch any of the half-wits doing this; not that I'm implying Hoodie Guy's a half-wit of course. Most of these pictures were taken by the public and emailed to Jim along with their complaint, but some are what I've taken."

I walk closer to the screen as Jay flicks through page after page of images. A small fraction of them are Hoodie Guy's, and it's obvious which ones are his as it's like comparing a Botticelli to the sort-of third-grade masterpieces that proud moms keep for years for the sole reason of causing acute embarrassment to their teenage sons and daughters when they produce them in front of their first boy or girlfriend.

I'm now even more intrigued by Hoodie Guy and would really like to visit the sites that remain intact, even though I doubt whether they would give me any clues as to who this guy is. Jay halts on one that depicts the Seahawk football team in action and points to it.

"See this one. It's near to CenturyLink Field and is so good the owners of the Seahawks want to commission the guy who drew it to paint other murals inside the stadium."

"Wow!" I respond, but looking at the quality of the painting it's obvious why, as what is on the screen is outstanding.

"Has anybody asked us to remove any of his art?" I ask.

"Nope, not yet," he replied but then added, "Well actually that's not exactly true. He's allegedly pissed off the Military and there's one near a school that's not very nice, but apart from those, no."

I was still wondering why Jay hadn't mentioned this guy while we were driving around Seattle when Jim sticks his head around the door. He's grinning, so something's obviously amused him.

"I've just had a call from the Mayor. His PA's just got an ear-bashing from Barry Jenkins at the Aquarium. What's the story there?"

Jay gives him a brief outline of what happened while I find some of the better pictures on my camera to show him. Jim looks impressed.

"I wouldn't class that as graffiti in a million years," he says directing his comment at me. "Can you ping these over on an email, Bella. I'll have a word with 'He-who-must-be-obeyed'. Maybe he can placate Belligerent Barry before he does something stupid."

"I hope so," I respond. "It really should be preserved, even just for the summer months."

"I'll see what I can do," Jim responds kindly. "I'll tell him you've said it has artistic merit, okay?"

"Thanks," I reply and for some reason I feel totally elated.

It's not as if I've uncovered a hidden treasure painted by Van Gogh or Cezanne; it's just contemporary street art, so I wonder why I'm feeling so protective towards it. And then I recall Hoodie Guy's eyes and how they locked with mine and held me just for those few brief seconds, and I'm positive, or at least I'd like to believe, that he was trying to connect with me for some reason. Was he hoping that I'd appreciate and preserve his work? Was he just vainly watching my reaction to his undoubted skill, or was he trying to tell me something?

I recall wandering around galleries in Amsterdam, Paris, Vienna and other great cities, marvelling with the other visitors the skill of long-dead artists who would never know how much their works were appreciated, revered and loved by the generations of art-lovers who viewed them long after they'd departed this life. It made me want to believe in ghosts, so I could imagine the spirits of these geniuses mingling with the museum visitors; eavesdropping on their conversations and relishing the love and praise being heaped on their masterpieces.

Twentieth-century artists like Picasso and Dali shared their passion on film many times and were lucky enough during their lifetimes to be confident they would be immortalised and remembered long after their deaths. But who wouldn't have wanted to listen to the words of artists such as Michelangelo, Da Vinci or Caravaggio, talking about who inspired them, what drove them, how they lived and how they worked. Their stories disappeared when they passed on, leaving behind only rumours of what was in their hearts when they created their masterpieces; in other words only snippets of information survived for the art detectives to analyse in years to come. This is what fascinated me about art, which was why I wanted to know more about this particular artist and why he chose his subjects.

I stroll back to my desk and gaze down at the sprawling city hundreds of feet below me. He's out there somewhere and I wonder whether he's thinking about my reaction to his painting, as he surely watched me taking close-ups of his work. When he stared at me there was a hint of something in the way his eyes widened when they locked with mine, but it wasn't shock or surprise that I'd spotted him, there was something else in his expression that I couldn't put my finger on.

I'm startled when my desk phone rings which brings a halt to my musings. I've never answered a work call before and frantically try to decide what to say before lifting the receiver. Do I introduce myself as 'Bella Swan, Urban Arts Consultant,' or just 'Bella Swan,' or even 'Bella Swan, Graffiti Queen?' In the end I just mumble "Bella's phone."

A very business-like voice barks down the phone at me and I automatically sit up straight as if she can see me, which is totally irrational.

"Hello Ms Swan, this is Jan, the Mayor's PA. I'm just calling to let you know that the Mayor will drive by the Aquarium this evening on his way to the ferry and make his own assessment based on your recommendation to preserve the street art there. I'll get back to you tomorrow with the Mayor's decision."

"Err….thank you for letting me know," I stammer. "I hope the Mayor agrees with me that ..."

"I'll be in touch," Jan interrupts sharply and disconnects without saying goodbye.

Jay's grinning at me from across the room. He could hear the brief conversation as Jan was speaking very loudly.

"Let's hope the mural's still there when the Mayor turns up tonight. You never know, Belligerent Barry might be out there right now with a ladder and a tin of gloss."

"I fu… I friggin' hope not," I splutter angrily. "I'll have him arrested for vandalism if he does that. Hold on a sec … Is the Aquarium privately owned?"

"Sort of. The City used to own it until the Seattle Aquarium Society took it over as a non-profit organisation a few years ago. It still receives a grant from the Parks Department so the Mayor does have a bit of clout if he wants to keep the mural, which is probably a good thing."

I relax slightly when I hear that, but Jay suggesting Barry might take matters into his own hands overnight has unsettled me. I just hope he isn't that short-sighted and the Mayor will be able to see the mural in all its glory.

I spend the rest of the afternoon on the computer downloading my photographs then typing up a detailed report on what I'd seen with my own eyes today plus what I'd viewed on Jay's screen, which to be honest is basically ninety-nine percent crap and one percent sublime. At five-thirty I notice Jay is pulling his jacket on and my other colleagues are making their way towards the elevators, so I'm relieved this department doesn't have an 'unpaid-overtime-to-suck-up-to-the-boss' ethic. Kirsty sticks her head around the door and already has a small tartan backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Are you up for a drink after work?" she offers.

I'm tempted to say yes, but my head is still muzzy so I duck out.

"Can I take a rain-check on that," I sort of whine. "My head is still pounding; I wouldn't be good company."

"Okie Dokie" she replies cheerfully. "Have an early night and see you tomorrow."

I grab my jacket and purse and join the others outside the elevators. I'm feeling really tired by now and the thought of an early night is very appealing. I've some shopping to do and a phone call to make, but hopefully I'll be in bed by ten. This is the first time I've ever lived on my own so being in control of the TV remote and consequently the noise level in my apartment is a welcome novelty. I'm hoping I'll be able to sleep without earplugs from now on.

When I'm out on the sidewalk I feel an enormous sense of relief that my first day in Isengard hasn't been as bad as anticipated; in fact I've really quite enjoyed myself. What I would've felt like if I hadn't seen Hoodie Guy and the mural is debatable as everything else I saw was artistically worthless. At least now I can get up every day hoping to see another one of Hoodie Guy's masterpieces, and this alone will be worth having to assess all the other dross in the meantime.

My tiny three-roomed studio apartment is in walking distance of 5th Avenue which is a bonus. I'm not tempted to use (deep breath because I still can't believe it), ' _my'_ car as there's only time-restricted parking on my street or I would guess very expensive overnighters. Anyway, I need the exercise or I'll end up with an enormous tush if I don't make myself walk every day and I can't afford to join a gym. It took me twenty-five minutes to get from my apartment to work this morning, but I wasn't exactly hurrying towards somewhere I didn't want to be. I reckon I could do the journey in twenty minutes door-to-door with a bit of practice and possibly less in a few weeks' time after I'd learned where the best places to cross the roads are.

When I get within sight of my apartment building I dive into my local old-fashioned supermarket to pick up some 'essentials', plus a processed goat's cheese and mushroom pizza and some DC's. I've got a supply of Tylenol in one of my unpacked bags so I'll pop a few of those before bed and hopefully remember to check my alarm is still set for seven as I'd probably sleep through until nine without it.

The friendly Asian check-out girl packs my shopping for me in two of their eco-friendly brown paper bags and I stagger towards the exit trying to hang on to my purchases _plus_ my jacket and purse. Unfortunately the door is not automatic, so while I'm juggling to free one of my hands so I can grab the handle, while wishing they supplied eco- _un_ friendly plastic bags which are much easier to carry and leave your hands free to open heavy glass doors, I feel someone come up behind me.

"Let me get that for you," a rich, soft and musical voice says in my ear.

"Thank you," I reply gratefully as a man's hand appears in front of me and grabs hold of the handle and tugs the door open.

I step outside onto the sidewalk and turn to see who my knight in shining armour is to thank him again, but he's slipped out after me and is already running at full pelt down the hill towards the crossing. After my eyes connect to my brain and I make sense of what I'm seeing, I can't help but gasp.

The man is broad-shouldered, very slim and wearing faded black clothing, including an over-sized long-sleeved hoodie. As he runs away in long, loping strides, his hood momentarily slides back and I catch sight of his shoulder length hair, which is a deep, rich brown. Almost immediately he grabs his hood and pulls it over his head again and carries on running.

I'm rooted to the spot as I know without doubt that it's ' _him'_ ; the Hoodie Guy, and I also know without question that there's no way on earth him being in the same store as me is a coincidence.

I should be shaking in my shoes as it's plainly obvious he's followed me all the way from the office then into the store. He definitely didn't buy anything either as I would've noticed him at the checkout. So why is it that I'm not the slightest bit frightened that he's followed me, or concerned he knows where I work, or worse, that he's effectively 'stalking' me?

I watch him as he waits at the crossing then he runs to the next junction where he turns left at the corner and disappears from view. For at least thirty seconds it's as if I've been paralysed. I'm still clutching my two bags of shopping to my chest like a protective cushion and my arms are starting to ache, but eventually my brain starts to function again and after taking a few deep breaths I turn in the direction of my apartment and start walking slowly up the hill.

As I open the outside door of my block and close it behind me, I've already promised myself that as soon as I get in the office tomorrow morning, my number-one priority will be to find out who Hoodie Guy is and learn everything there is to know about him, and I won't stop, or rest, or give up, until I understand what's making this guy tick.

Seattle is becoming more interesting by the minute and I just can't wait to get back to work tomorrow.

* * *

 **I bet she can't!**

 **So why is he following her, and why has our mysterious artist drawn a seascape on the Aquarium? Seems a bit random.**

 **This guy's obviously very talented, can paint in the dark and very quickly, and is possibly trying to communicate with Bella. Interesting! Next chapter you'll get an idea why she's in Seattle and not flitting from one European art gallery to another.**

 **Thanks again for all your reviews and guesses on where this is going. I'm loving them all!**

 **Joan x**


	4. Chapter 4

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER FOUR**

* * *

The windows of my top floor apartment face north, so even though it's still warm outside, the air that greets my face when I open the door feels chilly and smells musty and damp. It's permanently dark inside as well as the adjacent building cuts off my view to the outside world, plus the thick drapes at my main window restrict what little natural light can seep into the room, even when it's still bright outside. I know I'll have to find a way to pin the drapes back somehow as my living room/bedroom is in a permanent state of gloom, which will probably drive me insane after a while.

When I was trawling the internet from my lovely, spacious, shared house in Scotland, this one room, kitchen and bathroom studio was all I could afford. I still consider myself lucky though to have found somewhere so close to my place of work, with the added luxury of being able to live on my own for a change. I was tempted to get a shared house or apartment again as I love company, but having some solitude and privacy when I get home from work will gradually become more important to me in the months to come, which is depressing I know.

I toss my jacket on the unmade bed and dump my shopping bags on the tiny piece of counter in my galley-size kitchen. The sink is full of yesterday's and this morning's plates and mugs as I was too depressed last night at the thought of starting work at SPU to wash-up after eating. I couldn't bring myself to do them this morning either, so I know I'll have to clean-up the kitchen sometime tonight. Luckily I don't know anyone in Seattle, so the chance of having any visitors is miniscule, which means I can live like a slob if I want to. I therefore dismiss thinking about domestic chores with a clear conscience as I've a much more important duty to perform.

After washing my hands and tipping my shopping out onto the counter, I remove the plastic cover from the pizza I've just bought and with a sigh of pleasure I slide it into my tiny oven to heat up. As I pull the last clean dish from the overhead rack, I try to convince myself that I should be saving at least a quarter of the pizza to take to work tomorrow for my lunch, but I know damn well I'll end up eating the whole thing tonight because I'm a disgusting hog when it comes to any sort of cheesy food, especially pizza.

I tip half a bag of baby-leaf salad into a bowl and sprinkle some dressing over the top then open my one and only bottle of wine, which is nicely chilled and thankfully has a screw-top as I haven't got round to buying a corkscrew yet. I pour a decent amount into a coffee mug and take a long drink of Italian Pinot which hits the spot immediately. I very rarely drink alone, but considering the day I've had, especially after what just happened inside and outside the store, alcohol is definitely what I need right now.

I debate whether to call Charlie while the pizza is cooking or wait until after I've eaten. I've got plenty to talk to him about tonight and I know he'll be relieved to hear I've got access to a car. Recalling the moment when Jim handed me the keys gives me a lovely warm feeling, over and above what wine on an empty stomach is doing to me. Then I think of all the other unexpectedly good things that happened today, like Kirsty's friendly welcome, Jay's support at the staff meeting and finding out I don't have to power-dress for work, which will save me bashing my credit card this month. But most of all coming across the beautiful mural on the waterfront, coupled with the mystery surrounding how it got there so fast, and the equally mysterious man with the piercing eyes who I guess is responsible for painting it and is now my very-own personal stalker.

I decide to leave calling Charlie until after I've eaten and I've had _at least_ two glasses, I mean mugs, to unwind. I want to relax first and think about what just happened while it's still fresh in mind and then decide what to do about it. I put the rest of the shopping away; get changed into my PJ's and take another long swig of Pinot as I wander over to the sofa. I'm just about to launch myself onto it when there's a gentle knock on the door.

I'm automatically wary as I'm not expecting visitors. This, plus the fact that I don't have any friends in Seattle, makes me wonder for a moment whether my stalker has found out where I live. I can feel my face bursting into flames as I realise with shame that I cannot possibly open the door to this guy wearing pajamas, and scruffy pajamas at that, so I creep over to the door and take a peek through the spyhole to see whether it's him or not.

I can tell instantly it's _not_ him and let out a sigh of relief, but to be honest I'm slightly disappointed as well. I can only see the top of my visitor's head, so whoever it is must be quite short. This observation gives me the confidence to open the door without getting ready to defend myself, however I still gingerly crack it open only about two inches so I'm prepared to slam it shut again if my instincts are wrong. A girl who I guess is about my age is standing on my doormat. She has shoulder-length, medium-brown hair which looks as though she's just fluffed it out after being tied back. She's dressed in pretty bohemian-type clothing of harem pants and a floaty top and has a broad, pearly-white smile on her face.

"Hi! I'm Jessica," she practically sings before I even have a chance to acknowledge her. "I live across the hall. I just wanted to say hello and invite you over for a cup or glass of something; if you're not doing anything this evening?" she adds as a question.

I'm slightly taken aback for a second as I'm used to living in places where you never meet or speak to your neighbors unless you happen to bump into them on the stairs. I relax and open the door fully as I feel pretty confident she hasn't got a posse of thieves behind her ready to burst into the apartment and steal what little I've got. I make this assumption based on the fact that she's got bare feet and lots of toe-rings, which is not conducive to making a quick getaway.

"Oh hi," I mumble eloquently. "Ummmmm… I'm Bella."

I would normally jump at the chance of company but I've got too much going on in my head at the moment for polite conversation and my pizza takes precedence over everything else, but I don't want to appear rude or offhand. I rapidly think up a plausible excuse.

"Look, I'm really grateful for the invitation, Jessica, but I've had a long day and I've only just got in. I've got a storming headache as well so I've just taken two Tylenol which means I won't be much company when they kick in. Could I take a rain check to tomorrow night?"

I give her a cheery smile which I hope doesn't make me look like an imbecile or that it's forced (which it definitely isn't).

"Sure," Jessica gushes. "Just come over when you're ready. I get home from college just after five. Any time after that would be cool."

"Thanks," I say and I'm genuinely pleased to meet her. She seems nice and she's wearing the same type of clothes I did when I was a student. I wonder then what course she's doing but would guess from her clothes and general demeanour it would be something creative and arty."

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Bella. Hope your head gets better. If you need anything just knock," she trills and disappears down the hall.

I close the door still contemplating how friendly everyone seems to be in Seattle when my timer 'pings', indicating my pizza is ready. I pick up my almost-empty wine-mug and re-fill it before pulling the pizza out the oven. It's slightly black at the edges meaning the temperature regulator isn't entirely trustworthy, but the pizza is totally edible to someone who still has a student's mentality regarding food, meaning if it's not burned to a crisp it's cooked perfectly.

While I'm eating I turn on the TV. Luckily there's cable included in the rent as I'm addicted to random programs from around the world, so I skip through the millions of channels until I find a program about Tuscany, which is my favourite Italian region bar none. It also compliments the pizza I'm eating, and the Italian wine I'm drinking. All I need now is an Italian boyfriend to feed me ice cold _gelato_ with a long-handled spoon and life would be perfect.

After the hour-long program is over, I call the house phone at home and Charlie picks up on the second ring. I said I would call tonight to tell him how I got on at work so he's obviously been sitting next to it.

"Hi Bells," he says cheerily. "How'd it go?"

"Yeah, it was good, dad," I reply honestly. "Loads better than anticipated."

"Are you being truthful," he asks and I can hear the note of suspicion in his voice. He knows I'd say it was fine, even if it wasn't.

"Yes, I genuinely enjoyed myself," I insist. "The people are nice, the work is interesting and best of all I've been allocated a car which I'm allowed to use at weekends, so no ferries and buses for me on Friday night."

"That's great, Bella," he says and I can hear the relief in his voice. "That's a load off my mind to be honest. I didn't like the thought of you travelling after a long day at work. I was going to suggest you come home on Saturday morning instead. What sort of car is it?"

"Only a Fiesta, but guess what? It's an automatic!"

Dad pauses for a moment to let that sink in and then starts to chuckle when he realises by my comment that I've never driven one before."

"You'll be fine; it's like driving a bumper car."

"Yeah, yeah," I reply. "That's what Jay said. He's my right-hand man in the office. Anyway, I've driven it around Seattle today so I'm sure I'll be competent enough to drive it to Forks on Friday night."

"That's good news, Bells. I'm really looking forward to seeing you again. I'll admit I'm missing you already and you were only home for a week. It was great having you in the house, even though it clashed with me going through a bad few days getting used to these new drugs, and you were sleeping off your jet lag most of the time."

"I know dad; it was great being back in my old room and I was really grateful for the rest. You know that I wish I could be closer to you so I could get home every night, but it's impractical. You're okay and managing for the moment, aren't you?"

"Sure, I'm fine. Billy's taking me to the hospital on Thursday for my next appointment, even though I still feel okay to drive the patrol car. The doctor says no though because my meds are too strong now. I should be dizzy and hallucinating according to her but I'm not, apart from first thing in the morning. Sue's offered to do my shopping from now on and some of the lads off the reservation said they'll do jobs around the house if I need anything fixing."

"That's nice," I interrupt, but dad hadn't finished.

"Jacob and Paul drove past on their bikes on Sunday afternoon and asked after you. I was out on the front porch soaking up the sun when they turned up, but I didn't let on you'd been home, even though I'm sure Jacob was fishing for information. He kept looking up at the windows; especially your window. I hadn't seen him in months, which makes me wonder whether word had got out that you were back because he generally avoids coming this way."

"How was he?" I ask, (even though I'm not the slightest bit interested). Jacob is very much an _ex_ -boyfriend. We dated for about six months when I was in my last year of high school and broke up on the day I took my final exam. When I say 'broke up', what I really mean is I actually snuck out of Forks without saying goodbye. Charlie picked me up from school and drove me to SeaTac where I caught the evening flight to Florida to stay with mom for a week before I flew to Rome to join a month-long Art History tour of Europe. My plane had landed in Jacksonville before Jake realised I was gone, and from what dad told me after, he really kicked off when he found out, taking most of his vengeance out on my truck. The sole reason I chose the course in New York was to get away from him so there was no way I was planning to resurrect the relationship now I was back on the west coast.

"He's even more of an over-sized, hot-headed, irresponsible, juvenile bully than he was three years ago and he's always in trouble with either the cops or the elders on the reservation. He's on probation at the moment for fighting again," Charlie added. "Sam told me he's still pining after you though so be warned."

"Thanks," I sigh. "You know I'm not interested, dad."

"Yep! You made that quite clear three years ago. Don't worry, Bells, I won't encourage him. He's always been respectful to me, even when I arrested him at gun-point once, but that's probably because he's hoping to get back with you. He's not a nice person to be around though, especially when he's had a drink, and he still drives his bike like a maniac; even more so now I'm not out there in my patrol car."

"No change then, dad."

"Nope. Anyway, I won't keep you. You must be tired after your first day. You can tell me all about your job at the weekend, okay?"

"Okay, dad, I'll call you again before Friday."

"You don't have to, Bella."

"I know, but I want to. Goodnight, dad. Love you."

"Love you too, goodnight."

I hit the button to disconnect before he could hear the emotion building up in my voice. Just saying goodnight brought tears to my eyes and the lump back to my throat. It was there when we parted on Saturday when the cab came to take me to the bus station, and this morning when I read his message on my cell. Now the lump seemed to be getting larger and more permanent. I know in my heart I should've put my foot down when he told me he was ill and been more insistent that I wanted to stay with him 24/7, but he said quite forcefully that he didn't want any fuss. Just me being within driving distance was all he wanted, and financially I know it's the right thing to do, but that will more than likely change as the months go by.

I haul myself off the sofa and sling my dish in the sink with all the others then wander over to the bed and tip the contents of my purse onto the quilt. My camera's low battery light is flashing orange so I connect the charging cable and look around for a nearby electrical point, but before plugging it in I turn the camera on and start flicking through the pictures I took today. I quickly skip through the first fifty or so of the worthless graffiti, until the first picture of the beautiful mural appears.

The display screen on my camera is very small so it's difficult for me to examine the intricate parts of the painting closely, but I can still remember each segment clearly in my mind's eye. The shimmering shells of the turtles glinting in the sunlight, the gently wafting fins of the translucent angel fish, the razor-sharp edges of the multi-colored corals and the strength and movement of the thrashing shark and its human attacker are still blowing me away. I slowly flick through each image, still awestruck how this incredible work was achieved in such a short period of time and totally anonymously. It makes me wonder why he'd taken the chance of being caught and prosecuted for defacing a famous building when there were other buildings and walls nearby he could've painted on. Admittedly the Aquarium is the perfect place for this image, but he had definitely taken a massive risk.

And then I think about _him_ again; the mysterious guy who was watching me so intently from the shadows. Then I wonder why I instantly classified him as 'mysterious'. He was just a tall, lanky guy, in admittedly 'unsuitable-for-the-weather' gym clothing, standing in the shade, watching what was going on. So why did I single him out from all the other folk who were congregating around the building? What made me focus on him? I suppose it was because everyone else in the crowd was staring at the mural but he was staring at me, possibly wanting to see my reaction to his work. Was this because of vanity, or curiosity? When our eyes locked, he trapped me in that intense laser-beam gaze for a few seconds before I broke away. Maybe he or I blinked? Maybe he allowed me to release? Maybe he was satisfied he'd caught my attention and was playing with me? Whatever, I'm determined now to find out who he is and discover the reason why he was there.

Then I recall his voice when he opened the door for me in the store and there was definitely something unusual about the way he spoke those few words. He had a faint trace of an accent; in other words I could tell he wasn't from this part of the world but I couldn't place where he came from either. I was sure he wasn't American or Canadian, but he didn't sound English or Scottish either. Maybe English was his second language and his first was a European or Latino one? His voice was clear and strong but somehow soft and gentle too, as if he was trying to control how he spoke.

I try to recall exactly what happened, or more appropriately what _didn't_ happen in the store. I _didn't_ see him follow me in. I _didn't_ see him in any of the aisles. He definitely wasn't at the checkout, but he must have somehow seen me struggling with my bags at the door although I didn't hear him come up behind me. After he spoke the words offering his help, his hand appeared in front of my face and I recall watching his long, slim and very clean fingers wrapping themselves around the handle before he tugged the door open. And then what? I know I heard something like a sigh or a gasp coming from behind me, but I couldn't swear whether it was from him or not. A few seconds later I was out on the sidewalk and he'd slid past without touching me.

I remember watching him escaping down the hill, if that's what he was doing. His long, loping strides were effortless, like he was only in second gear even though he was travelling at quite a speed. Then his hood slipped off and I saw his hair, which was a rich medium to dark brown and probably quite long; shoulder-length maybe. He covered himself quickly again even though it was still warm and quite sunny; almost like he was a fugitive escaping from a crime scene. I wondered then why he was dressed like that. Did he have an aversion to the sun, because he must've been boiling in those clothes?

But why did he follow me home in the first place if he didn't want to talk to me? That was what was bugging me the most. If he didn't want to make contact with me, why risk letting me see him in the store, and then, even more strangely, come up close behind me then speak to me as he opened the door and then run off? He had a golden opportunity there to break the ice and talk to me without Jay being present, if that's what was bothering him, but he didn't take it. I just cannot understand the logic behind why he's doing everything possible to let me know of his existence, and for me to know that he's effectively stalking me, but he's not prepared to engage with me.

I stare at the pictures for a while longer until the battery light flashes red. As the last image of the mural fades away I try to recall the other examples of his work Jay showed me this afternoon. A few spring to mind like a girl in a hammock, a night-scene of Seattle and the football one near CenturyLink Field which looked awesome, but there were at least six or seven more which I'm confident are his. I'm really looking forward to seeing the football one close-up though as it looked like a photograph at first glance which proves he has an incredible level of skill. So before I do anything else tomorrow, I'll go through Jay's stored files and print off copies of all the ones I think are his, then examine them in more detail to see whether I can tap into his thoughts and find out something about his soul through his pictures. Somehow I'm not entirely confident whether I'll be able to do that easily as there's something about him that doesn't ring true, but I can't put my finger on what.

I switch the camera off and connect the cable to the wall so it'll be fully charged for tomorrow then wander around the apartment trying to find something to do to justify my negative attitude towards washing the dishes, but there's nothing. So I sigh, roll up my pajama sleeves and head for the sink. It only takes me about fifteen minutes to clean up despite having to practically chisel off a few uneaten flakes of cereal from the bowl I used this morning and then I really am left with nothing to do again. I didn't have any room in the bags I was carrying on Saturday for any books from home so my options are either TV or bed, so I choose bed, even though it's only just coming up to ten.

The Tylenol cosh is definitely kicking in as I'm feeling extremely weary, so I don't need to convince myself that an early night would be a good thing. I have a quick wash in my cramped but adequate bathroom then wander over to the window to close the drapes. The view from my living room is basically a deep gray colored brick wall with no windows, but if I angle my head sideways I can just see a few yards of sidewalk and an ornate lamp post which illuminates the narrow alleyway running between my building and the next. The sun sets at about eight thirty this time of year, but the sky is clear tonight and the moon is very bright so the small amount of sidewalk I can see is well lit.

I drag the first drape over to the centre of the pole then have a quick peek out the window so I can say a grateful goodnight to the city for what has been a surprisingly good, interesting and eventful day. Before yanking the second drape across to meet the first, I glance at the sidewalk again, just as a tall figure strides across my restricted view of the street. He glances up at my window, hesitates, then instantly disappears from sight.

My knees go from underneath me and I hang onto the drapes to stop me collapsing from shock as my brain absorbs what I've just seen. It was _him_ … I know it for certain. I could tell by his hunched posture, his faded clothes and his piercing eyes. But it's the thrill, almost like electricity that's shooting through my body, which absolutely convinces me it was definitely Hoodie Guy out there on the sidewalk in front of my apartment.

I let go of the drape before the pole comes away from the wall and stagger over to the bed, where I collapse onto the bouncy mattress and put my head in my hands.

 _I honestly don't know what to do_.

Should I call the police, or phone my dad, or run over to Jessica's and hide in her apartment until the morning, or should I just get dressed, go down to the sidewalk and wait for him to appear again so I can confront him and ask him what his game is?

A shiver runs down my back but it's not from fear. I know I should be concerned. I know I should be _at least_ a teensy-weensy bit frightened that this guy is stalking me, but I don't feel anxious or alarmed at all and I wonder why this is. If it had been anybody else but Hoodie Guy I would be dialling 911, reporting I'm a single female living alone and being stalked by a tall dark stranger. But for some reason I know in my gut I'm in no danger from him.

Is it because Hoodie Guy's an artist, and as someone who has studied artists for years, I cannot perceive that anyone who is able to paint like he does and can put his heart and soul onto a 'canvas' in that way, could possibly have anything nefarious or evil on his mind? It must be, because… because… because … I just can't explain why.

I lie on the bed and stare up at the cracked and stained ceiling as if I'm in the Sistine Chapel again, gazing up at Michelangelo's interpretation of heaven. I'm trying to get some perspective on the situation but I can't. This man is obviously wanting to communicate with me but why the subterfuge? Why the mystery? If he knows where I live and wants to talk to me, why the hell doesn't he just knock on my door?

I shuffle under the quilt and close my eyes. Different scenarios flit through my confused mind where I'm imagining talking to him about his work and his undoubted skill. I want to know who taught him and who or what influences his paintings. I'd like to know how old he is, whether he's travelled, who his favorite artists are. I'm desperate to be able to see his whole face and look into those dark brown or black eyes and read what's behind them. I want to discover the parts of his soul that I can't figure out by examining his work with my skilled but still youthful and relatively inexperienced eyes.

I curl up in a ball and hug myself while I think about Hoodie Guy and what has happened to me today. Slightly more than thirteen hours ago I was standing on 5th Avenue, anticipating walking into a job I'd imagined would bore the hell out of me. Now, I'm beginning to accept I've never been more excited about anything in my whole life, because I know, I truly, truly know, without a shadow of a doubt, that one day I'll find out everything I need to know about this guy, this man, this artist, and what I discover about him will somehow have an influence on my life and the paths I decide to take in the future.

I close my eyes but sleep doesn't come for a while. I haven't felt this excited since I was a kid, lying awake on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to come. Tonight though, the guy who's outside my window isn't Santa; instead he's a mysterious stalker with a black hoodie and dark, piercing eyes.

* * *

 **So is he really stalking her? If he is, he must have a pretty good reason over and above checking up who is looking at his art. I think Bella's being very brave (or naive) not reporting him.**

 **So Charlie is ill; a lot of you guessed this was the reason Bella has had to come home. You'll find out very soon what's wrong with him. Also Jacob has appeared. Sorry Jacob fans; he's not a nice guy in this story but he's an important part of it. (I'm not always horrible to him though - honestly!)**

 **Next chapter Bella goes off on her own around the city and ends up having the shock of her life; well two shocks actually.**

 **Joan x**


	5. Chapter 5

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER FIVE**

* * *

 **Tuesday 25th April**

I can't remember dropping off to sleep last night but I've woken feeling refreshed and excited about the day ahead, which is the total opposite to how I felt yesterday morning when I was dreading spending my first day at the Public Utilities Department. My first thoughts are naturally about my mysterious stalker, and I wonder whether I'll catch sight of him again today or be able to see any more of his work. Getting out of a comfy bed is usually a challenge for me, but having something to look forward to is a great incentive.

After I've sat on the edge of the bed for about thirty seconds, stretching and rubbing life into my limbs before attempting to stand up, I launch myself off the over-soft mattress and shuffle across my dark and chilly room to the window. I take a deep breath for courage before cracking open the drapes an inch before cautiously sticking my nose and one eye through the gap to check whether he's outside watching the building. Curiously I've got every finger and toe mentally crossed that he is.

I fix my gaze on the sidewalk for at least ten seconds, but unsurprisingly he's not there. As I haul the heavy drapes fully open to let as much light into the room as possible, my feelings are a mixture of relief and disappointment. But before I move away from the window I gently touch the glass with my finger at the exact spot where I saw him last night, as if doing so would make him magically reappear again.

"Bella, you're going loopy," I say out loud as I turn away, then huff in resignation at my disappointment as I put the kettle on. After a quick visit to my freezing cold bathroom, I drag the box of _Cinnamon_ _Toast_ _Crunch_ from the shelf and tip out a bowl-full, popping a few stray flakes in my mouth before drenching the rest with milk. I giggle as I recall preaching to my housemates in Scotland about my favourite American cereal bar-none; trying to explain to these girls and one guy the exquisiteness of every glorious mouthful and being sad for them that they'd reached their twenties without experiencing the orgasmic qualities of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

I relish every mouthful of sugary heaven while staring out the kitchen window which has a slightly better view of the street below. I carefully observe every one of the stream of worker-ants hurrying along the sidewalk to their daily grind, but no-one matching Hoodie Guy's description walks past. I start to think that maybe the guy I saw last night wasn't him, which would mean I'm pathetically attempting to bring some intrigue and romance into my otherwise boring and loveless life, but somehow I know it _was_ him striding past the alley.

Maybe he lives nearby and it's just a coincidence he was in the supermarket at the same time as me, so it's possible I'm reading too much into seeing him? I truly hope not though as I haven't been this excited about anything for a long while, even though under his hood he might have a face only a mother could love, not that this should make any difference of course.

Unlike yesterday morning I make sure I don't leave any stray flakes in my bowl and rinse it out straightaway which makes me feel very sensible and domesticated. I make some instant coffee in my favourite tartan mug which has a view of Edinburgh Castle on the side, then switch on the TV for five minutes while I de-tangle my hair before getting in the shower. The local news is on as I'm brushing it into an up-do but I'm only half-watching, half-listening, until I hear the words 'Seattle Aquarium' mentioned. I glance up to see a wide view of the Seattle waterfront, and then the camera zooms in on the Aquarium and I guess correctly the appearance of the mural has become newsworthy overnight.

I turn the sound up and pay close attention to the female reporter as she broadcasts live from the quayside. She's interviewing members of the public as they walk off the ferries or are just strolling past on their way to work, asking for a comment on whether they like it and if the mural should be preserved or not. The vast majority are in favour of it staying at least for the present, with only a few disparaging comments from gray-haired fascists who tut and shake their heads. The journalist ends the segment by saying she intends interviewing the Aquarium's staff when they turn up for work and will report back to the studio in an hour or so.

I'm thrilled first of all that the mural is still there, so Barry has resisted the temptation to paint over it during the night. Secondly, the mural is definitely popular, which will only strengthen my case when I report to the Mayor's office today. I'm just hoping and praying he'll have both the power and the inclination to slap a preservation order on the mural, and he'll hopefully arrange for it to be covered in Plexiglas or some other means of protection sooner rather than later, just in case Belligerent Barry is really considering taking matters into his own hands.

I skip into the bathroom feeling more hopeful I'll get my way today and sing my favourite shower-song, 'It's Raining Men' at the top of my voice, hoping the bathroom walls are dense enough to ensure I'm not damaging my neighbours' eardrums. I haven't felt like singing in the shower for the past three months so my mood has lightened considerably since the day my world fell apart, which was when Charlie told me he was ill. For a second I feel guilty about being happy for a change, but I'm sure he wouldn't begrudge me a moment of light-heartedness.

Twenty minutes later I'm out on the street, but before setting off in the direction of the office, I look around me to see whether I can spot Hoodie Guy lurking in a doorway, however there's no sign of him. I check my phone so I can time myself getting to work and manage to do the journey in twenty-one minutes; I'll try and beat this tomorrow.

Jay is already at his desk when I get in. He's skimming through emails that arrived overnight while sipping his coffee. He waves and grunts something unintelligible when I say 'Good Morning' but as I wander over to my desk I'm delighted to see there's a steaming mug of proper coffee waiting for me.

"Wow, thanks," I say gratefully.

"S'okay," Jay mutters in response. "Did you see the news this morning?"

"Yep, but only the first bit," I reply as I drag my jacket off and dangle it over the back of the chair. "I didn't hear what the Aquarium staff had to say; did you?"

"Yeah, I heard it. Boring Barry is still insisting he wants it removed; he said it would give other vandals carte blanche to desecrate all the other walls, blah blah blah. I've got a feeling he's spoken to the Mayor though."

"Any news on what the Mayor thinks," I ask as I take a sip of coffee.

"Not yet, but we should hear later on. Anyway, I'm just checking last night's emails. Looks like Hoodie Guy had the night off. No new ones as yet."

"Right," I answer, slightly disappointedly. "Any chance you could ping over his other efforts and their addresses. I wouldn't mind taking a more detailed look at them when I have time."

"Sure," Jay answers just as his desk phone rings. He picks it up and attempts to introduce himself but I can hear a man's voice talking rapidly on the other end from my side of the office. Jay just responds with "Okay, Sir," then "Sure", then "Half an hour," then I hear the phone click. Jay stares at the receiver before placing it back on the cradle.

"That was the Mayor. He wants us in his office at nine-thirty."

"Jeepers," I reply nervously as I wasn't expecting to actually be called to see him in his office. I just presumed I'd talk to him on the phone every now and again and maybe get introduced to him if he visited our floor.

"I presume it's about the mural," I suggest. "I'd better think of a convincing reason, artistically speaking, why we should keep it, other than 'its bloody good'."

"I'm sure you'll think of the right non-British words to persuade him that it's a fine example of urban art, in other words just the type of thing he had in mind when he appointed you."

"You mean I've got to give him a load of bullshit."

"Only up to the level of the bullshit you put on your application, Bella."

"Am I that transparent?" I ask curiously.

"Only to the trained eye - or should I say ear!"

I knew then Jay was referring to the comment I made when I was crossing the road, which was something like, _"Bella, you can do this. Get a grip – it's not the end of the world."_ I smile and shake my head.

"One day I'll tell you the whole story, Jay, but until then can I just say I was a lot happier when I went home last night than when I came through this door yesterday morning. Can we just leave it at that?"

"Okay, Bella. I'll look forward to hearing the whole story. I'm sure it'll be a cracker."

"Alas, it won't, however I suggest you have a box of Kleenex handy when you hear it. Okay?"

* * *

Half an hour later we're in the Mayor's suite, waiting for his pristine PA to give us permission to enter the hallowed ground that is the mayoral office. At least the delay has given me the opportunity to take in the incredible view from this high up in the tower, where I can see beyond Bainbridge Island to the Olympic National Park and its dense forest, showing as a thick olive green ribbon stretching across the horizon. The phone buzzes, which is obviously the signal for us to go in, so I follow Jay into the plush, beautifully furnished room, where the Mayor is holding court from his over-sized tan leather throne.

"Take a seat," he says as he points towards a low couch in matching leather. As I squelch into it next to Jay, it's obvious he's chosen this furniture so his visitors have to look up to him when he's speaking to them. It's a classic example of autocracy, dictatorship, narcissism, whatever you want to call it, and I'm instantly rattled. As he moves papers around on his desk, obviously with the intention of making himself look important and to keep us waiting even longer, I look at him with a critical eye to see whether I can work out what makes him tick.

He's young for a Mayor in my opinion. Probably mid to late thirties or early forties at a push I'd guess. Smartly and expensively dressed, fair haired, clean shaven with manicured nails. If it wasn't for his tinted glasses and outrageously over-the-top tie and matching handkerchief he could pass as a banker or an accountant, but the fact that he's willing to allocate the residents' tax-dollars to preserving street art means there's something slightly subversive in his make-up which obviously fascinates me. Eventually he speaks and what he says first surprises me.

"I want you two to find out who painted the mural, graffiti, street-art, or whatever you want to call what's on the Aquarium, as soon as possible. Whoever's done this has talent and I could use them for projects in the city. I've ordered Jenkins not to touch it or I'll withdraw the City grant next year, so unless he's a complete idiot it's safe from being destroyed."

"Thanks," I mutter gratefully. "I was worried that Barry, I mean Mr Jenkins, might paint over it himself."

"That was his intention, Ms Swan, but I put a stop to that. Now, I'm presuming it was a group of kids who painted this. From what Jenkins said when I spoke to him, it appeared overnight. I'm thinking it might be a gang, or a class from one of the local schools or colleges, so I want you to visit all the educational establishments in the area and ask whether they know who has the talent to do this."

I know my eyes have widened as the Mayor is talking as the notion that it was several artists hadn't occurred to me, but I dismiss the suggestion immediately.

"Sir, in my opinion it was done by one person. The brush strokes …"

"That's ridiculous," he interrupts. "There's no way any one person could've painted the mural overnight. No, it must've been done by a gang and I want you to find out who they are. Jay, you say there's other examples of this gang's work in the city. How long has this been going on?"

"Several weeks, Sir," Jay replies. "Actually I agree with Bella. I think it's just one person as we've seen a guy hanging around when we've visited a couple of his sites. He runs off when…"

"He's probably the ring-leader, or could be an irresponsible teacher. No more of this nonsense; I want you to make this your _top_ _priority_. Find out who _they_ are and report back to me when you have information."

The Mayor gets to his feet which is obviously an indication he considers the meeting is over, so I struggle off the sofa and make my way over to the door. I'm tempted to reiterate that _I'm_ the Art Expert here, and I know without doubt only one artist is responsible for the mural, but I feel Jay's hand clamp firmly onto on my shoulder as he propels me out the door before I have a chance to open my mouth.

"Don't say a word," he hisses in my ear as he almost frogmarches me towards the elevator. I'm annoyed he's behaving like an over-zealous big brother but I'm also amazed he's picked up on my mood after only knowing me for five minutes. How the hell does he know I can be a feisty bitch when the opportunity arises?"

The elevator doors open and he pushes me in and hits the button for floor 25 then spins me around and gives me a filthy look which surprises me.

"First rule of Fight Club is _don't_ argue with the Mayor, even though he's a fucking know-it-all. You've got to learn when to keep your mouth shut, okay? I personally think it's a good idea to visit the schools and colleges. A teacher might recognise the style and know who the artist is as he could be an ex-student. When we find out who this guy is, _that's_ when you can crow to our Lord and Master about being right all along, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," I sulk. "He's such a dick though, even though he's given me this job. He wasn't interested in my opinion; I think he just wants to make money out of this guy."

"That's may be, Bella, but I've a feeling our guy would tell him to fuck off."

"I hope I'm there to witness it when he does," I say and smile. "Okay, I'll get a list of schools and colleges from the Education Office and make a start, but I'd still like to take a look at some of his work; today if possible. I'd prefer to learn something about him before I actually meet him."

"Let's have coffee first," Jay suggests as the elevator doors open on our floor.

"I'll make it this time," I offer and wander over to the small kitchen where Kirsty is also making coffee while nibbling the edges of a ginormous cookie that's the size of a CD.

"Want one?" she asks and shoves a paper bag full of scrumptious looking but misshapen cookies under my nose. "My friend works in a bakery," she explains with her mouth full. "The staff are allowed to take home any un-sold or weird-looking goodies at the end of the day; these ones are peanut butter."

"Wow!" I say and pull out the smallest cookie and take a bite. It melts in my mouth instantly as though it's just been baked and I greedily take another bite before I've swallowed what's already in my mouth. I can't imagine them tasting any better even if they were warm, straight from the oven, but if they did they would be on a par with my Cinnamon Crunch, and that's saying something.

"Thanks," I ask as I devour the remaining cookie embarrassingly quickly while the percolator bubbles. "I'd be the size of a house if I had a friend who worked in a bakery. How do you stay so thin?"

Kirsty laughs as she wipes her mouth and takes a sip of her coffee. "I'm one of those annoying people who can eat what I like. One day I'm going to wake up and all the excess calories I've scoffed over the years will explode inside me and I won't be able to roll out of bed because I'll be soooooo fat. Until then, I'm just going to enjoy myself."

I giggle at the image of Kirsty growing in size like an inflating balloon, with her head, hands and feet protruding from an enormous round body, but knowing this will probably never happen to her. Some people are lucky; unfortunately I'm not one of them.

I take the coffees to the office feeling slightly guilty that I've had an illicit cookie and Jay hasn't, and find him printing off pictures of Hoodie Guy's art-work for me. I see he's also writing the address on the back of each one plus the date they were reported to the office, and there's already about eight or nine sheets of paper on his desk. When he prints the last one off, he writes the order in which I should visit them so I don't end up criss-crossing the city. I guess by this he's not intending to come with me.

"Am I doing this on my own?" I ask.

"I've seen them before, Bella," Jay responds as he takes his first sip. I note he automatically screws his face up as I guess he's expecting my version of coffee to be not up to scratch but he stares at the mug then stares at me.

"Great coffee, maestro; how the heck do you know how I like it?"

"It's the same as what you made me this morning, silly. Not too strong with a splash of milk. I presumed that's what you'd like."

"Jesus, am I so easy to read?" he laughed. "Don't answer by the way."

I laugh as well as I'm seriously warming to this guy. He's not my type romantically but he would be a great close friend, and I'm going to need good friends in the coming months. Jay takes a few more sips of his coffee then bundles the papers together and hands them to me.

I've put the addresses on the back of each picture so use your Satnav and you won't get lost. It's a nice day so have fun. I'll tell Jim the Mayor has given you carte blanche to be out and about, so enjoy."

"I will," I reply as I take the pictures and give them all a quick glance.

To be honest, I feel quite excited about the rest of the day. When I first applied for this job I thought I'd be desk-bound most days just looking at stuff on the internet, but if I'm allowed to be let loose in the city life won't be all that bad.

I quickly gulp my coffee and head for the elevator with my jacket and the tools of my trade, in other words my camera equipment and notebook in a much larger bag than yesterday and of course my car keys. Even though I drove quite competently with Jay, I'm still slightly anxious about driving in the city on my own so I approach the car with trepidation. Having Jay sitting next to me giving me directions made yesterday's journeys easier, but this time I've got no-one watching out for me as I negotiate the busy streets.

Before leaving for college nearly three years ago, I'd only driven around Forks and the neighbouring small towns. Port Angeles was the liveliest place I'd been to on my own as Charlie had always driven to and from Seattle when we visited to watch the Mariners or the Seahawks. In Scotland the roads were practically deserted once you got away from Fife, which is a tiny town in comparison to Seattle, so driving through a bustling city is a new experience for me.

Learning to program the Satnav is another challenge, but fortunately I master this quite quickly. Whoever designed the screen obviously had people with limited brain cells in mind so I punch in the first address with ease and wait for the satellite to kick-in before setting off.

After missing a couple of turnings and almost going down a one-way street by mistake, I make it to the first address without crashing or breaking any traffic laws. I park Freddie the Fiesta across the street from the painted wall, but before getting out the car I assess the general area to see whether it's safe or not as I'll be on my own flashing quite an expensive camera. Then I tell myself not to be so paranoid. It's ten fifteen on a Tuesday morning in Seattle, not midnight in The Hood. The chance of being mugged is minimal I reckon, but I'm still wary as I look up and down the street which is relatively quiet compared to what I'd just driven through.

I take my first picture of the mural from inside the car then take several more from a distance as I'm walking towards it, then some close-ups so I can compare the brush work when I get back to the office. I can easily tell it's the same artist who painted the mural at the Aquarium as the attention to detail is just as fine, which is what singled it out from all the other dross Jay and I witnessed yesterday.

The picture is of a line of shabby but very pretty shops, and my first impression is it could be an image of a Parisian street from the nineteenth or early twentieth century; in other words very quaint and picturesque. The style reminds me of Michel Delacroix's work I'd seen in an exhibition in New York which probably influenced my gut reaction, but looking closer I realise it's a local scene as one of the shop fronts has advertisements in English in the window.

In the middle of the row of shops is a café with several 'al fresco' bistro tables covered in blue gingham tablecloths set out on the sidewalk under a candy-striped canopy. But the charming scene isn't completely tranquil, as the deserted café has dark smoke billowing from its open door and windows. In the depths of the interior of the café, just visible through the neatly arranged blue gingham drapes, you can see the orange flicker of flames spreading across the back wall.

The most striking part of the picture however is what is happening in the sky, where a violent storm is raging. Heavy thunder-clouds hang over the line of shops, and in the top right-hand corner there's an image of Satan hovering above the clouds. He's holding a shimmering lightning bolt in his right hand and is poised to strike at whatever catches his snake-like eyes. At the same time he's laughing at the disaster unfolding beneath him.

I take photos of each part of the picture within reach. It's similar to the Aquarium scene in that it has two halves; the horror residing in the top section. I stare at the mural for more than a few minutes but I can't guess what the artist is trying to convey. Why has he chosen this particular image? What message is he trying to communicate to whoever sees it? I can't understand his motives other than just painting the first idea that came into his head.

I look around me to see whether he's in the vicinity again; watching me taking photographs of his work like yesterday, but there's no-one in sight apart from a few local people going about their daily activities. I'm tempted to stop one of them to try and get some information, like whether they'd spotted the artist working, but in the end I don't bother. I still have another eight sites to visit so I figure I should assess all the pictures as a group once I'd seen them close up, and then work out whether there's a pattern or a story to tell.

I walk back to the car, sling my camera on Freddie's back seat and punch in the address for the next site on my list and set off. It's only about half a mile away but I have difficulty finding this mural as it's tiny compared to the first two. It's just ten beautifully painted numbers drawn on a white-stone wall. Some of the numbers have been drawn twice; there are two 'three's' and two 'seven's' for instance. Two have tiny clematis-type flowers wound around them, two have Dali-like designs inside the borders, two are filled with polka-dots; the others are just fancy but intricately drawn old-fashioned italics in different styles. I try to see the logic behind the numbers, like when a teacher asks you to work out the next number in a sequence, but I can't make out any recognisable pattern and eventually give up.

I get back in the car and set off for the next mural which isn't far away. By now I've worked out how to get the radio to tune to a decent station so I'm humming-along with a song I vaguely recognise feeling totally relaxed and happy. The city is glowing in the early summer sunshine and I'm beginning to really enjoy myself, plus I'm gleefully congratulating myself on finding a job which isn't the least bit boring.

I easily spot the football mural from quite a distance away as it's much longer but not as tall as the one of the café. It covers the whole length of the lower half of a building adjacent to the massive stadium, which is the home of the Seattle Seahawks. I recognised the road name when I entered it onto the Satnav as I'd been to several games with my dad, the last time being about four years ago, so at least I have a vague memory of the area. I slow right down as I drive past the impressive mural giving it a quick sideways glance then start searching for a place to park.

I decide to turn left at the next junction and have to wait in line until it's safe to drive across the traffic. Just as I'm moving off, I spot _him_ standing on the curb on the opposite corner to where I've pulled up, and it's obvious he's watching me. I can't help myself but I shriek out loud from the shock of seeing him again.

His clothing and posture are exactly the same as when I'd seen him at the Aquarium; the only difference being this time he's carrying what looks to be a bulky sports bag slung over his shoulder. Also he's wearing Wayfarer-type sunglasses, which is logical as it's a painfully bright day. I can't see his eyes but I can feel them boring through the lenses at me like two laser beams.

I slam the brakes on, undo my seat belt and jump out the car, not bothering that I've stopped in the middle of the street and I'm holding up the traffic, but by the time I'm out he's disappeared from view.

"Damn," I spit as I vainly try to spot him by climbing up on the inside rim of the door to give myself extra height, but end up slapping my hands on Freddie's roof in frustration. I'm being tooted at by now by several irate drivers so I reluctantly get back in the car and find a safe spot to park then sit for a few minutes clutching the steering wheel until my hands stop shaking, at the same time concentrating on trying to calm myself by breathing steadily.

Even with the air conditioning on full-blast I can feel my face over-heating so I search my bag for anything which might cool me down but find nothing; not even a bottle of water. In the end I discover the instruction manual for the car in the glove compartment and sit there for about five minutes flapping it in front of my face until I feel normal again. I know I've had a shock which has caused this reaction, but I'm sure I'd be in the same state if I'd seen a ghost, or Chris Hemsworth, or the Virgin Mary standing in front of me.

I remain in the car until I feel able to face the world and in those few minutes I consider the odds of seeing him out on the street in a totally different part of the city from yesterday. I reckon they'd be about a million to one, which means him being here at the same time as me is in no way a coincidence, just like in the store yesterday, but how the hell did he know where I'd be unless he's been following me again?

I dismiss this troubling thought from my mind, and after I've accepted that there's nothing much I can do about it other than calling the police, which I've already decided I don't want to do, I try to focus on why I'm here. I pull out from the file the picture of the mural which Jay printed off. It's an action shot of the centre line of a football field at the moment when the line-out breaks and every player is moving at the same time. Behind the action on the field, the animated fans are cheering and shouting; spurring their heroes on to glory. It's an incredible action picture with so much energy emanating from the players and in the faces of the crowd that it's difficult to believe it isn't a photograph, or at least hasn't been copied from a photograph.

I pick up my camera and make my way over to the mural still clutching Jay's picture which I really didn't need to bring with me. I fold it up roughly and stuff it in my bag before taking my own long-range shot of the whole wall. Before I examine the painting close up, I look around to see whether he's watching me again but there's no sign of him anywhere.

I start on the left side of the long, thin mural and take several photos of the players and fans, marvelling as I take each shot at the detailed expressions on the faces of each figure which are so true to life. I take several pictures of the scoreboard, wondering if this is an actual game, then the line-out in the middle, and then carry on snapping each section, making sure I don't miss any part of it. My intention is to print off all the photos when I get back to the office and stick them together side by side so I can look closely at the whole mural in detail.

I've almost reached the far end when I stop dead before taking the next photo, because through the camera lens I've spotted a face in the crowd I recognise. When I realise who it is I physically jump back from the mural in surprise. I take a deep breath before looking again through the magnified lens of the camera just to make absolutely sure I'm not seeing things, and when it dawns on me that I'm definitely not, for a few seconds I have difficulty catching my breath.

I take the photo and another, and then lower the camera so I can stare at the familiar face with my own eyes while my brain does a mental calculation, and I know without doubt there is no way he could have painted the mural when Jay said he did.

I can't stop staring at the face as I fumble in my bag for Jay's copy of the picture then I drag my eyes away from the wall onto the printed image. I search along the line until I see it, but the image is so tiny it would be impossible for me or anybody else to recognise the person from such a small copy.

My legs feel weak and my hands are visibly shaking as I stumble even closer to the wall and stare at the image again in total disbelief. I touch it carefully with one finger to see whether the paint is still wet, but it's as dry as a bone and has the same weathered appearance as the faces next to it, which confirms to me, without a doubt, that it hasn't been over-painted recently. I look on the back of Jay's print just to make sure it was painted three weeks ago, which is impossible, because the face I'm looking at is of the girl that looks back at me every morning from the bathroom mirror, and three weeks ago that face was over five thousand miles away in Scotland, preparing to say a tearful goodbye to her friends.

A cold chill creeps down my back and my hands begin to shake so violently that I almost drop my camera. After taking some deep calming breaths, I frantically search my bag for my cell and after three attempts at hitting the right name on my contacts list, get through to the one person who might be able to shed some light on this mystery.

"Jay, it's Bella …

"No ... just listen, Jay. I'm outside CenturyLink Field looking at the mural.

"Yes, that one …

"Jay, just shut-up for a moment will you? You really really have to be here to see what I've seen, so I need you to get down here fast, ... please."

I disconnect the call and as I stand there staring at my own face, I slowly come to the conclusion that, without a shadow of a doubt, something very strange and incomprehensible is going on in this city and I honestly don't know what to do next.

I still cannot take in what's in front of me but as I put my camera back in my bag, I sense that he's behind me, watching me so he can witness my reaction to seeing myself. I spin on my heel in the hope of catching him and I search every sidewalk, every window, every rooftop, every alleyway, but he's nowhere in sight. I want to scream, "Why are you doing this?" at the top of my voice, but instead I slowly wander back to my car and wait for Jay to rescue me. When he comes, hopefully, somehow, he'll be able to convince me that I'm not going crazy.

* * *

 **You can understand why she's confused? How the heck has her face appeared in one of his murals? If this doesn't get her thinking that something highly unusual is happening, nothing will. And how come he's able to turn up wherever she is? This will all be explained when Edward takes over the story later on.**

 **Next chapter Bella will see the rest of Hoodie Guy's efforts, but instead of getting another shock, she'll get a lovely surprise (it'll still shock her a bit though).**

 **I hope you're enjoying it so far. Thanks for all your reviews and lovely comments; I really am very grateful. **

**Joan x**


	6. Chapter 6

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER SIX**

* * *

I jump when Jay creeps up behind the car and knocks on my window, breaking me out of my scrambled and totally confused thoughts. While I've been waiting for him to turn up I've been fixated on my camera screen trying to make sense of what I've witnessed with my own eyes, but I'm still no closer to explaining how my face has come to be on the mural.

"Hey, what's the emergency?" Jay says cheerily as he clambers into the passenger seat.

I'm relieved he doesn't look angry because I've dragged him away from the office for no other reason than my garbled plea that I need his help and advice, but I don't say anything to him until I've flicked through my photo gallery and found the only really clear picture of me I managed to take before my hands started shaking too much to take anything usable, and then I pass the camera over.

"The mural behind us was allegedly painted nearly three weeks ago, so what's your immediate take on this?"

I watch Jay's face go through a series of reactions as he looks at my image. Firstly its curiosity, then recognition, then wonder, then confusion, and finally an expression of disbelief. He looks at me, then behind us at the wall, then at the camera, then back at me again.

"What the fuck!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought in so many words. I've been sitting here trying to work out if there's any way he could've seen my face before, but unless he knows me from school, or Forks, and somehow found out I'd got this job before I started, this is totally unexplainable."

Jay stares at the camera again and shakes his head then takes hold of the print and looks at the date on the back.

"Where were you when this was painted, Bella?"

"I was still in Scotland. I handed in my dissertation two days before the date on the back and was getting ready to leave for home when it was painted. I'd already been appointed to this job as I'd applied online from Scotland. Jim and a woman from HR interviewed me over Skype."

"Why did you leave Scotland in such a rush?"

"I needed to get back home because my dad's ill."

"How ill?"

"He's dying."

"Shit!"

"Yep! He called me at the end of January to tell me he'd just been diagnosed with untreatable liver cancer. It hasn't spread anywhere else yet, but unless he gets a transplant in the next few weeks he won't see Christmas. I stayed in Scotland until the middle of April then got the first plane home as soon as my tutors allowed it."

"Jesus! So what's his chance of getting a transplant?"

"Practically zero because he has a particularly odd blood group called Rz or something like that. Somewhere back in our ancestry there's an Eskimo or a Native American who had this blood group so we're not holding out much hope. The doctors reckon it'll be a million to one chance a donor's found in time, which is why I came home before the end of my course and graduation."

"You'll still get your degree though, won't you?"

"Yep. After the tutors read my dissertation and marked it, my college called me when I got home last week to let me know that even though I'd left the course early, I'd already built up enough credit to get a first class honours which I'm really pleased about, especially as the last two months of my course were a blur. I'm just glad I'd almost finished the dissertation before I got the phone call, otherwise I probably would've failed."

"So that's why I needed a box of Kleenex then?"

"What?"

"You said when I found out the reason why you were muttering to yourself when we were crossing the street I'd need one."

"Oh yeah, that's right. I hadn't planned on coming home for a while. My aim after I graduated was to head back to Europe for at least a year to do some research and _then_ come home and write a best-selling book which would stun the art world. My plans flew straight out the window when dad told me he was ill."

Jay goes quiet for a minute while he digests what I've said, and then asks me a question which I wasn't really expecting.

"I hope you don't mind if I ask a personal question, but how were you planning to fund yourself while you were doing your research? What I'm trying to say is, if you could afford to bum around Europe for a year or so doing a ton of research and then spend time writing a book, why have you taken on a relatively low-paying job, working for Spew, when you obviously have the financial resources to be able to stay at home with your dad?"

I quickly toy over whether to give Jay the whole sorry tale or tell him to mind his own business about my financial affairs, but decide to be honest with him as I'm probably going to have to lean on him for help and support during the next few months, so being up front now would pay dividends in the future.

"Okay, here's the whole story. About six years ago I was living with my mom in Florida when she met a guy who until recently had been playing major league baseball. He'd joined the Miami Marlins coaching team when he retired from playing but he'd already earned a fortune while he played for the Chicago Cubs. I didn't like him and he didn't like me, so after he'd been with mom for about a year, he gave me a shed-load of cash to leave Florida and go live with my dad, on the understanding the 'bribe' would pay for my college education with a bit more to enable me to become independent afterwards. I still have quite a lot of it left which was going to support me for the next two years at least, but I'm keeping this for dad's medical bills. Luckily he's covered for most of it through being a cop and having their insurance, but there's still co-pays, deductibles and other bills which thud onto his mat at regular intervals, and if he has a transplant, this will clean mine and dad's savings out completely because of all the anti-rejection drugs and after-care he'll need. He might even have to sell his house. Consequently my dream of researching and writing a book has had to be put on hold for a while."

"I'm sorry about that, and about your dad," Jay responds quietly and I can tell he genuinely means it.

"Yeah, I thought my life was all mapped out, then cancer pulls the rug out from under me and it all comes crashing down. I don't know what I'll do when dad dies though. I don't have any brothers or sisters or any other family, apart from mum and Philandering Phil!"

Jay gives me a funny look. "Is Phil your mom's husband?"

"Hmmmm, yeah. He tried it on with me when mom and him first got together, which was another reason he paid me off; to keep my mouth shut because I was underage at the time. He'll never be faithful to mom, but I've a feeling she accepts that."

"What a bastard," Jay spits.

"Yeah, well, Phil's had girls after him all his life, which makes me wonder why he settled for mom. He's never been married and could've had the pick of whomever he wanted, but he went after mom big-time even though she's in her early-forties. My guess is he doesn't want to have kids, which is understandable at his age, so he found a woman who couldn't have any more. Mom had a hysterectomy about ten years ago."

We sit quietly in the car while Jay digests my life history until he slaps his hands on his knees, breaking the silence.

"So, what are we going to do about our illusive, psychic friend?"

"I honestly don't know. Is it worth telling anyone at this point about my face in the picture, or do we try and solve this mystery by ourselves? I'm supposed to be finding out who Hoodie Guy is and delivering him on a platter to our lord and master, don't forget."

"I've a feeling that will prove very difficult, Bella, but in the meantime I'm going to take you for lunch. You're as white as a sheet and I can tell you defo need some calories in you. Shuffle over and I'll drive to one of my favourite cafés. I got a cab here because my wheels are out of action at the moment, so I'll chauffeur you around this afternoon."

I don't argue but gratefully slide into the passenger seat while Jay walks around the front of the car and gets in. We set off at speed and within a few minutes we've arrived at a small café called 'Joe and Del' where we manage to find a parking place outside.

The café is packed, so we have to wait a few minutes until a tiny table for two by the window becomes vacant. I order a Spanish omelette and Jay orders a burger with everything on it plus bottomless Diet Coke's. While we wait for the food to be served, which we were warned may take a while because they were so busy, I tell Jay I was sure I'd seen Hoodie Guy on the junction opposite the mural before I had a chance to look at it close-up. I can see this bothers him but he doesn't say anything or offer any sort of solution why he was there when I was.

It was my turn now to ask some personal questions so I ask Jay if he's married or living with anyone.

"No," he replies wistfully. "I've just broken up with a long-term live-in girlfriend so I'm still a bit fragile to be honest and not looking for love for a while, even though I saw the girl of my dreams a couple of weeks ago. I didn't have the guts to ask for her number because she was with someone and I'm totally regretting it now. I did give her my business card though but alas, she hasn't called. What about you?"

"I don't have anyone at the moment. I had a couple of short romances at college; one in New York the other in Scotland, but nothing life-changing. I won't be swiping left or right or whatever you do for a while as I don't think I can cope with any more drama in my life at the moment. At least I'm only twenty-one. How old are you?"

"Thirty five; that's tragic, isn't it?"

"No it isn't so don't be silly. You're still young at heart, and at least you're a guy and you don't have a biological clock ticking inside you."

"True. It must suck being a girl in that respect."

"I'll confirm that when I'm thirty-five and still unmarried or childless."

"That won't happen to you, Bella. I've only known you for less than thirty hours and you glow. You'll be snapped up in no time, if it's what you want."

"I glow do I?" I respond grinning, but totally surprised at Jay's description of me.

"Oh yep, you certainly do," Jay replies then chuckles under his breath.

We're on our second round of drinks when our food finally arrives and the waiter apologises for the delay.

"Sorry for the wait guys," he says. "We've got all the clients who usually go to Beelzebub's. They're closed at the moment so we're rushed off our feet."

"That's okay," we both say at the same time then tear into our food. I end up eating half of Jay's fries and he insists I have an ice cream afterwards to get my sugar levels up. If I carry on eating like this at lunchtime, I'll soon be the size of a house.

* * *

Half an hour later we're back on the road on our way to the next mural. This one is in the children's park adjacent to the Space Needle and is a simple but beautifully precise painting of the Needle itself with the Seattle skyline behind it, set against a brilliant starlit sky. The only unusual aspect of the painting is that in the windows of the Needle's revolving restaurant is a long sign pressed up against the glass. It's been drawn on eight individual pieces of probably A1 size paper and says in bold, hand-written letters, 'Send Food!'

"That's weird!" I pronounce when I look closely at the mural from one end to another, but I can't see any clues in any other part of the picture as to why the sign is there. I take several photos of the scene and of course keep looking over my shoulder to check whether we're being watched, but unless he's hiding somewhere in the bushes or behind the play equipment, he isn't around this time.

The next site involves a long drive out to Phinney Ridge, which is home to Seattle's largest zoo. On a roadside wall Hoodie Guy has painted a cartoon-like picture of what at first glance looks like a doctor's waiting room, but instead of human patients, the chairs are filled with all kinds of indigenous wildlife, like beavers, bears, mountain goats and other small furry animals. As we walk closer to the mural, I read the sign on the doctor's door and see it actually says 'Psychiatrist', and piled up on the jolly-looking receptionist's counter, next to a sign saying '$20 each', are small white boxes with the words 'Worry Pills' on the side.

Jay is grinning widely when we approach this one.

"This is my favorite," he says. "I'm not a fan of zoos, so the image of animals being treated for stress from being cooped up behind bars is quite a statement."

"Do you think this is what he's implying then?" I query.

"I guess so. What else do you think he's trying to say?"

"Well, it could be climate change, or too many tourists in the Olympic Park, or something else."

"I suppose so, but why put it near to the zoo then?"

"Oh God, I don't know. I can't read this guy's mind. I wonder if he's on drugs."

"He's a young guy living in Seattle – I would say there's a fifty-fifty chance of it."

I muse over Jay's depressing comment and wander back to the car. I've almost recovered from the shock of seeing my face on the football mural by now but I'm feeling mentally exhausted. We still have more sites to visit and its only curiosity which is keeping me going.

"Where to next?" I ask as Jay goes through the printed pictures.

"There's one not far from here, near a school. This one's not humorous at all."

As we're travelling I look at the print which is of two guys lying prostrate in the middle of a street near to the entrance of a school building. They would have had pistols in their hands but they've been felled by a yellow school bus which had then collided with a tree, and the pistols are now lying in the middle of the road.

"This one's horrible," I comment as we pull up by the mural. "Are you sure this one's his? It's not like the others."

"I'm not sure to be honest," Jay replies. "I'm only guessing it's his because I'm positive he was watching me when I came to see it after it was painted. He was standing over there." Jay points to the school gate which is about a hundred yards up the road. "I'm not a hundred percent certain though as he was dressed differently this time," he adds. "But there was something about his posture which reminded me of Hoodie Guy."

"What was he wearing then?"

"Slightly smarter pants and possibly a Seahawks jacket. At first I thought he was a member of staff on duty at the gates but he quickly walked away when I spotted him and disappeared round the corner."

I got out the car and looked at the painting which was still very life-like, but didn't have the fine quality of the previous murals; in fact it looked amateur compared to what I'd seen today. I thought if this was his, he must have painted this one really quickly because it was on a busy, well-lit street, plus I could see security cameras on the corners of the school boundary.

I nudge Jay and point to the camera. "Did you ask whether the camera had picked anything up?"

"Yep, but no, it didn't. The camera had been disconnected; in other words one of the wires had been pulled out."

"Convenient," I comment slightly facetiously.

"That's what I thought, but he would've had to bring a ladder or a cherry picker with him to get up that high. Anyway, this is being removed sometime this week so if you want to keep it, you'd better make a case quickly."

I shake my head as to be totally frank I wouldn't like to see this image every day, especially near a high school.

I take some more photos and a few of the street then get back in the car. As Jay is driving towards the next destination it's beginning to dawn on me that something weird is going on here. Even discounting the last mural, I thought by now I'd have picked up some sort of connection between Hoodie Guy's murals but they are all so different.

The next stop is near to the Frye Art Museum, which is on my list of places to visit while I'm living in Seattle. I'd been here on a school visit when I was about sixteen and had always planned to go back but had never got round to it. As we drive past, I can see the mural on the side of a nearby wall.

"Oh my God," I shriek when I take it all in. "This would drive me insane if I lived or worked anywhere near it."

Jay is grinning at me as he pulls Freddie into a parking space. "If you've got OCD I bet this is your worst nightmare," he chuckles. "Are you OCD?"

"No, but I think this picture would actually trigger it. I'm surprised the Museum hasn't insisted this monstrosity is removed straight away."

"They actually like it; thought it was fun."

"No way?" I almost spit. "Nope, I can't look at it anymore; it's an assault on my eyes. When I saw your print I thought you'd taken the picture at a funny angle, but it's been painted like that? Really!"

We walk towards the wall and I can't help but tilt my head to the left to view it rather than look at it straight on, but it doesn't help. The painting is of the inside of an art gallery. The room has a corniced ceiling, a central door and a tiled floor, but every painting displayed on the walls is slightly askew, but to different degrees, as though a naughty schoolboy has come along and nudged each one out of line. I definitely don't suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but like most people, whenever I see a picture out of line on a wall I have an obsessive urge to straighten it up.

The picture itself had been painted beautifully, with each portrait or landscape finished in detail. Even the tightly arranged picture frames are exquisitely finished and the polished wooden floor shines under the perfectly arranged overhead lights. The perspective of the room is exact, which in itself is quite a feat, and I wonder whether the painting is a perfect replica of one of the rooms in the museum.

"No it isn't," Jay replies to my unsaid question. I can't help smiling because he's guessed what I was thinking.

"Did you go in and check when you first saw it?"

"No, I didn't have to. One of the gallery staff was out here with me and said it was an accurate drawing of one of their rooms, but the pictures were different. He really liked it."

"Nuts!" I comment and turn away because I can't look at it anymore. I suddenly feel sympathetic towards Belligerent Barry and what he wanted to do with the mural on the Aquarium; in other words I was sorely tempted to creep up here in the dead of night and put a coat of gloss over the top of it.

We set off for the next site and while we're travelling, I stare out the car window at the city I'm beginning to get to know quite well. At least this adventure is familiarising me with my new home which I have to admit I really like. I haven't visited many cities in America in my twenty-one years, but I can easily say, without a doubt, that Seattle is my favorite so far.

The next mural is totally different. Again, this one has been beautifully painted and is of a teenage girl or young woman who is fast asleep in a hammock dangling between two small but sturdy trees. At first glance she almost looks like me, in that she's definitely young, small build, with long, curly brown hair, but this time her facial features are slightly different. She could be my sister if I had one, but she definitely isn't me. Behind the hammock and the trees, and stretching up to a far horizon, is an idyllic rural scene of plump sheep and sleek thoroughbred horses grazing in sun-drenched rolling pastures enclosed by white picket fences. I can almost feel the warmth of the sun, smell the lush green grass and hear the invisible crickets buzzing it's so life-like, and it makes me want to be the girl in the picture, especially as the hammock looks so inviting to someone who's tired.

In a large 'bubble' above the girl's head is a pictorial image of what she's dreaming about, which is the exultation of winning a horse-race. She's dressed as a jockey and is standing up in the saddle of the winning horse as it crosses the finishing line. She's waving her whip in triumph as her long brown hair streams out behind her, marking her out as the only girl in front of the following posse of men.

Also in the dream bubble, the men in the racecourse crowd have their shirt collars undone and their neckties loosened and the ladies are wearing 1950's style cotton dresses with spectacular picture hats of every description. Heat, in the form of sweat, is pouring from the galloping horses as they race along the baked track and I can imagine what it feels like to be there, watching the action in the sweltering temperatures then finding some shade and cold lemonade to cool down with. It's another stunning mural and I feel warm just looking at it. The scene glows with sunlight and I can almost hear Ella Fitzgerald singing the lazy song 'Summertime' in my head.

"This is the first full-size mural he painted as far as we know," Jay says as I take my close-up pictures.

"When was that?" I ask.

"I'd guess at the beginning of April; could even have been the end of March. The owner of the wall loves it; she says it reminds her of being home somewhere in the mid-West apparently. It's a very old-fashioned, wholesome sort of picture don't you think?"

"I suppose so," I muse. "I wonder why he painted it here though. There's nothing connected to horse-racing anywhere in the area."

I look up and down the long, featureless built-up street but can't see any reason why he chose this place, other than it's a flat, easily accessible wall.

"Perhaps there is and we don't realise it," Jay muses. "I haven't got a clue as I can't read his mind. He's good at drawing horses though."

Yeah, he is," I agree.

"Do you want to do the last two or go back?" Jay asks as we walk to the car.

"I'd rather finish today if that's okay?"

I say this with a sigh as I'd hoped by now I would've worked out what was going on, but I'm still no wiser than I was this morning.

"Come on then," Jay says, trying but failing to sound enthusiastic. "Let's get this over and done with before the roads start getting busy."

We head towards the ocean and pull up near a wall that overlooks Elliott Bay. This picture is another seascape, but the surprise is that it's been painted upside down, in that it's a detailed drawing of a nuclear submarine with its conning tower pointing south. Apart from the water, which has been colored beautifully, the picture is featureless other than the sub, with no other points of reference like the surface of the sea, or any plants or sea creatures like the Aquarium mural, so you can't tell whether the sub is doing a barrel roll like an aerobatic plane, or whether he's just drawn it like this for a bit of fun.

"This is getting crazier," I comment as I take my photos. "What do you think the message is here?"

"No idea," Jay responds and he's starting to sound weary as well. "He did this last week and the Kitsap Naval Base have just asked Jim to get rid of it. They don't want the public seeing their nuclear hardware displayed on a brick wall and in a compromising position. It's coming off in the next few days, unless you think it's worth preserving?"

"No, it's not that special compared to what I've seen today. I don't want to upset the Navy either of course."

We set off for the final site which is on the waterfront near to Pike Place Market. Like the second site I visited, this one isn't a picture but is of words rather than numbers. They've been written in one long line across the front of a boathouse that faces the sea, and, like the numbers, each individual letter has been drawn in a different style. The words he'd painted are of a saying attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt which I'd heard before.

 ** _'The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams'_**

"When did this one appear?" I ask, as Jay had omitted to put a date on the back of this print.

"Nobody's sure," he replies. "When it was eventually reported by the boathouse owners, they said it had been there for a while but couldn't remember when it first appeared. They're happy to keep it by the way. The boat owners like it."

"Are you sure it's his?"

"No, it's just a guess because it's similar to the one that's just a group of numbers, and, like the others, it appeared overnight."

"Right," I reply as I take several photographs. "It's a lovely sentiment," I add. "I wonder why he picked this particular saying."

"Maybe he draws what he dreams about?"

"That's possible, but he must be smoking some weird shit to have dreams like some of his pictures, and it still doesn't explain how my face ended up in one of them."

"True … Anyway, have you seen enough for one day?"

"Yep," I reply as I place my camera in my bag for the last time. "I've got hundreds of photos to examine and a lot to think about but this can wait until tomorrow. We'd better show our faces in the office before home time or people will think we've bunked off for the day."

"Bunked off?"

"It's a British expression for skiving."

"Skiving?"

"Playing truant, leaving early, got it?"

"Yeah yeah. It's bad enough working with a half-Scot; now I've got to put up with a half-Brit!"

"It's the same thing," I remind him and get a sarcastic snort in response.

We wander back to the car and I drive to the underground parking lot and reverse into my allocated spot. Jay gets out the car first and as I'm reaching onto the back seat to get my bag, I hear him exclaim, "Holy Shit!"

"What's up? I ask as I nervously clamber out, thinking I must have either run over something without realising it or the car is damaged and we hadn't noticed, but Jay is staring wide-eyed at the concrete wall behind the car.

"Oh my God!" I shriek, which echoes around the cavernous lot, causing a man who's walking towards his car to turn in our direction.

Jay walks up and touches the wall then shows me his finger, which is now covered in brilliant white paint.

"He must've just finished it," he says incredulously, then adds, "How the hell did he get past security?"

"I don't know," I whisper as I stumble on my wobbly legs towards the wall.

What he has painted behind my car is a stunning Monet-like watery-green pond covered with pale-pink and yellowy-white waterlilies. But unlike any of the Monet waterlily paintings I've seen in galleries in New York and Europe, floating in the middle of this particular pond is a single, beautifully drawn swan, and when I realise the significance of the drawing my head starts to spin.

"Jay, he knows my name."

"I guessed that, Bella, but what worries me most is, _how the hell did he know that this is your parking space?_ "

* * *

 **Well, this is a surprise. Bella is going to be even more confused now. Firstly she's got to try and discover why he's chosen to draw what he's drawn, if they aren't just random paintings, and then work out how he knows so much about her.**

 **Next time Bella will have her girls-night-in with Jessica and then something will happen that quite a few of you have already guessed will happen. (Dammit)**

 **Again, thanks for all your reviews and guesses. I'm loving reading them.**

 **Joan xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER SEVEN**

* * *

I honestly can't remember walking across the parking lot and stumbling into the elevator. I'm in a different state of shock than when I saw my face on the football mural; it's more like I've been stunned.

After seeing the picture of the beautiful swan behind my parking space and then trying to get my head around how the hell he'd managed to get away with painting the mural in broad daylight without being seen, my brain has gone into protective-mode and has temporarily shut-down. I'd already had to digest the fact that he knew what I looked like over three weeks ago while I was still in Scotland; now it's clear he knows my name, and even more inexplicably, where I park my car! It's all too much to take in at once and I feel totally overwhelmed.

Jay is carrying my jacket and bag while I slump against the cool metal wall of the elevator as it shoots up to the twenty-fifth floor. As the doors open he grabs hold of my arm before I have a chance to complain and calls out to Kirsty who jumps to her feet when she sees the state of me.

"Kirsty, can you make Bella a coffee please, and one for me too if you don't mind. She's not feeling too good."

"Sure," Kirsty trills as she heads towards the kitchen. "Has she had too much sun?"

"Something like that," Jay mutters as he steers me towards our office then pushes me down in my chair. "Don't move," he orders then shoots off to get me some iced water as well.

When he returns and after I've had a long drink of water, I apologise for behaving like a pathetic idiot in the parking lot.

"I'm sorry Jay, but seeing the painting behind the car just threw me again. I still haven't gotten over the shock of my face being on the football mural, so seeing the swan sort of resurrected it again. I don't know what the hell's going on here?"

Jay doesn't respond in words but shakes his head and I know he's just as bewildered as I am. Even though I've only been in his company for less than thirteen hours, I can tell he isn't the type of guy to throw out speculative guesses if he doesn't know the answer, but I can also tell he's very concerned about what's happening, as whoever this guy is must be getting his information from somewhere.

"Hoodie Guy _must_ have a connection to this department somehow," I state firmly. "I can't think of any other way he knows who I am, where I live, what my job …..

"What do you mean, _where you live_?" Jay interrupts sharply. "Why the hell didn't you tell me this before?"

It was my turn to be apologetic for keeping something from him now. I had genuinely planned to tell Jay about the supermarket incident and Hoodie Guy being outside my block last night, but too much was happening all at once for me to keep up.

"I sort of forgot this morning, Jay," I stutter guiltily. "What with the Mayor asking to see us first thing and all the other stuff. Anyway, yesterday I presumed he'd either followed me home or it was a coincidence I saw him near my apartment, but now I'm not so sure."

Kirsty brought our coffees in and gave me a funny look before returning to her desk. When she'd appeared, I was holding the glass of iced water against my face in an effort to take the heat away from it, which hopefully reinforced her guess I was suffering from sunstroke or something similar.

"So what happened last night?" Jay asks as he pulls his chair out from behind his desk and wheels it over next to mine."

"He was in my local supermarket. He came up behind me and opened the door for me when I was leaving. I didn't realise it was him at first as I didn't see his face, but I heard his voice this time which I'm sure I'd recognise again. He slid past me, then I watched him run down the street until he turned a corner. Then, later on, I was closing my drapes and spotted him walking past the front of my apartment building. He looked up at my window and I saw his eyes again for a split second."

"Are you sure it was him?"

"Ninety-nine percent."

"Were you scared?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"I don't think he's dangerous. He's an artist."

Jay huffs in derision at that comment. "He's a stalker, Bella," he growls in response.

"Maybe he's just curious," I offer as an excuse.

"About you?"

"Yes. If he knows why I've been taken on, then maybe he's trying to figure me out before he approaches me. If he's confident I won't destroy his work, maybe he'll make contact?"

"I suppose that's a possibility but I'm still concerned for you. Do you live on your own?"

"Yes, but there's a girl who's about my age living across the hall. I'm seeing her this evening so I'll mention it to her and ask whether I could use her apartment as a safe house if I get scared."

"Good idea. You've got my cell number as well. Just call me if anything happens; promise?"

"Yeah yeah, I promise."

Jay gets up and pats me on the head like I'm a pet Labrador then wanders back to his desk leaving me to sip my coffee and stare out the window. I know he isn't satisfied with how I see the situation but at least he's prepared to trust my judgement on this for now.

As I look down over the sprawling city spread out below me, I know that somewhere down there is a guy who knew that I'd be doing this job before I got on the plane in Edinburgh, and I'm pretty damn sure there's a message either for me or the city in his artwork which I'm yet to figure out. I'm too tired to think about this now and I'm even too emotionally drained to print off any of the stills I've taken today, so I decide to stay quietly slumped in my chair so I can think about all the craziness that's happened today until the clock says five-thirty.

Kirsty sticks her head around the door to check on me every fifteen minutes or so which is nice, but I'm not ready to tell her or anyone else about my own personal mural now adorning the wall behind my car. If I did, this would lead to a hundred or more questions about how he knows my name, where I park, et cetera, and, even more worryingly, it might get back to Jim or the Mayor who may then accuse me of knowing more about the artist than I'm letting on, which is definitely not the case.

When it's time to go home Jay jumps to his feet, pulls his jacket on then walks over to my desk.

"I'm walking out front with you to check if he's outside watching, okay?"

"Okay, thanks," I respond, as I can tell by the determined way Jay says this I have no option in the matter. I grab my things and sheepishly follow him into the elevator, wondering whether Jay is slowly turning into my dad, or a big brother at least.

I admit I'm feeling more than a bit nervous as I stand outside the building while Jay does his Knight in Shining Armor impersonation in the warm, early evening sunshine. When he's happy to give me the all clear and let me set off for home unsupervised, I chuckle for a moment as it's like being back in elementary school.

"Are you sure you're okay to be on your own, Bella? I'd go with you but I've got somewhere I need to be," he adds apologetically.

"Yes, I'm fine, honestly," I assure him. "Even if he is around I don't think he's going to attack me."

"Okay, but call me tonight if you're followed," he insists.

"Promise," I reply earnestly. "See you tomorrow, unless I'm murdered in my bed of course."

"Don't joke about things like that," he grumbles while he walks me towards the curb.

"Sorry," I say and in an effort to make light of the situation, I make sure he can hear me chuckling as I stand by the crossing. As I make my way over on my own, I'm still surreptitiously checking that Hoodie Guy isn't around, and when I step onto the opposite curb I turn to see whether Jay has moved. He hasn't, and he's still surveying the area to check whether Hoodie Guy has suddenly sprung out from an office doorway or an adjacent building.

I must admit I'm grateful Jay has my back, even though I guess it's partially curiosity on his part with a side order of gallantry. I wave to him then put my hands around my neck and stick my tongue out at a funny angle as though I'm being strangled and I can see him laughing as he heads in the opposite direction.

On my way home I drop into a liquor store I spotted on the way to work and choose a bottle of wine to take to Jessica's plus another for my fridge. I have to show my ID, my Seattle ID _and_ my driver's licence to the guy at the counter, as even though I'll soon be twenty-two I know I only look about seventeen because I don't wear make-up. As the guy gives me a hard stare which I calmly return, I recall the fun I had living in Scotland where you only had to be eighteen to buy and consume any type of liquor and I was never once asked to prove my age, even in the pubs.

I can't help myself, but every time I turn a corner on my way home I look around to see whether he's following me, but no-one resembling Hoodie Guy is anywhere close. I pay special attention when I'm in the store to check whether he's lurking in any of the aisles like yesterday, but disappointingly he isn't and there's no Sir Galahad on hand when I need help opening the door as my own hands are full of wine bottles, potato chips and other grocery items for my rapidly filling cupboards. When I close my apartment door behind me I text Jay to let him know I'm home and thankfully not dead, then collapse on the sofa for a few minutes before getting ready for my girls-night-in.

At around six-thirty I nervously knock on Jessica's door to be greeted with a scream of "Yikes – coming!" from the other side, followed by the sound of something crashing to the floor and then, "Fuuuuuck!" (I think I'm going to get on with this girl).

"Sorry!" Jessica says with a wide grin on her face as she flings open the door, which becomes even wider, (the grin not the door), when she sees what I'm carrying.

"Wow! Drinkies AND chips, come straight in," she exclaims cheerily.

I clamber over a full size bike that has slid onto the floor, (how the hell did she get it up the stairs), a mountain of boots, shoes and sneakers, plus numerous other objects lying like an obstacle course between the door and the sofa. Every piece of furniture is covered in clothes or books with even more of the same scattered across the floor. I thought I was untidy, but Jessica's apartment takes chaos to another level.

"Sorry about the mess," Jessica giggles as she pulls two glasses out of the sink and rinses them out. "Actually, I'm _not_ sorry. I _love_ living like this," she continues enthusiastically as she unscrews the wine bottle. "My mother is completely OCD about tidiness at home. This place is my very own Declaration of Independence."

"Hear hear," I reply as she hands me a glass and we drink a toast to Thomas Jefferson.

"So, what is it you do? Jessica asks as she drains her glass before I've taken my second sip. "I saw you moving in and presumed you were a student. Didn't you bother going to college?"

"Yes, I've just graduated from St Andrew's in Scotland," I reply, already anticipating the next comment about my youthful looks.

"You've graduated!" Jessica exclaims loudly. "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm twenty-two in September. I know I only look about twelve, which is a bit annoying when I'm in a liquor store, but I'll probably be grateful when I'm forty-two."

Jessica laughs at this as she fills her glass up again. "I'm twenty, nearly twenty-one, so thanks for the wine. I don't have any fake IDs, so any alcoholic offerings are gratefully received."

"You're welcome," I reply and take another sip. The wine isn't very good as it isn't chilled properly, but it's still a nice way to relax at the end of a very stressful and exasperating day.

"What course are you doing?" I ask.

"Interior design," Jessica replies nonchalantly.

I can't stop myself but I burst out laughing when she says it. "You're kidding, right?"

"Why?"

I wave my hand at our surroundings but quickly realise Jessica is frowning at me. For a few seconds I think I've offended her then she bursts out laughing as well.

"You're the first person who's ever fronted me up on that gag. Well done! No, I'm studying music production at Cornish College."

"Where's that?" I ask, then add apologetically, "I'm from Forks; I don't really know my way around Seattle yet."

"It's not far from Pike Place Market; you know where _that_ is I presume? When I was looking at colleges, I knew I'd prefer being in town rather than at the University campus on the outskirts of the city. I like being in walking distance of music venues and it's such a trek to get back to the campus at night, especially after midnight. Anyway, enough about me; what did you study?"

"History of Art for two years in New York, plus one year in Scotland. I finished my degree a few weeks ago then went home for a week before starting my job."

"No plans to go travelling then?"

"Nope! My dad's not well so I'll be going home every weekend to spend time with him."

"So who do you work for?"

"Seattle's Utilities Department."

Jessica's eyes widen when I say who my employer is and I wait for the inevitable question, which comes.

"For God's sake, why?"

"I needed a job, and at least I've got one where I can use my knowledge."

I give Jessica a brief resume of my role and responsibilities which softens the look of horror on her face somewhat.

"Actually that's quite cool," she muses. "Urban Arts Consultant sounds a lot more interesting than saying you work for the City's Utilities Department. I'm not a poser, but when you're picking up guys what you do's important."

"Guys aren't an issue for me at the moment," I sigh. "I've got too much going on in my life to have to think about anybody else."

"Yeah, me too," Jessica agrees and slugs back another glassful of wine as though she's trying to drown a sorrow or two.

"So, is the work interesting?" she asks as she fills her glass up _again_.

"Yeah, it is. Most of what I've seen so far is either vandalism or unskilled and unimaginative crap, but there's one artist out there who's really good. I was looking at examples of his work today which are all over the city. If you go down to the waterfront, he's painted a mural on the front of the Aquarium."

"Yeah, I saw it on the news. It looks amazing. I've heard that crowds of people have been going down to see it. Do you know who painted it?"

"No, it's a complete mystery. He's Seattle's version of Banksy, even though his style's totally different."

"I've heard of Banksy. He's British, isn't he?"

"Yep, I've seen his stuff. He's more political though. Anyway, can I ask a favor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Well … I've a feeling I'm being followed."

"That's not good; tell me more."

Before I elaborate further, I make the instant decision not to tell Jessica that Hoodie Guy has anything to do with my work, so I just give her the basics.

"It's a guy who always seems to be around. I'm sure he followed me home from work last night and he was outside the block when I closed the drapes."

"How old is he and is he good looking?" Jessica asks and giggles. Either she thinks this is funny or the drink's getting to her.

"I haven't seen his face properly but I'd guess he's in his twenties. It may be nothing or a coincidence, but just in case it isn't and if I feel scared, can I take refuge in here?"

"Sure, no problem," Jessica replies then adds, "If I'm not at home my spare key is under your doormat."

" _My_ doormat?"

"Yep. If anybody finds it, they'll presume it's your key and try it. When it doesn't fit they won't bother trying anywhere else."

"That's clever," I say. "Thanks, I hope I won't need it. Can I take your cell number as well and I'll give you mine."

We exchange numbers and Jessica tips the last dregs of the bottle into my glass. I'm tempted to go get the other one, but decide to keep a clear head as tomorrow is going to be a busy day. When we finish the wine, Jessica gets some Cokes from the fridge so we have something to drink with the chips.

We go through the usual 'get-to-know-each-other' stuff then. She's originally from Portland and her folks are all interior designers and architects, hence the OCD-ness about keeping the family home tidy. She has two older brothers who've already completed their degrees in architecture and have joined the family firm straight from college, but her first love is music.

Because she was hopeless at math in High School, (she says with a wink), she managed to convince her parents she'd never be an architect, after which they reluctantly agreed to let her go down the artistic route and pay for her to go to a private music college rather than Washington State. She's in her final year but she said she still hasn't got a clue what she wants to do when she finishes her course.

I tell her I'm originally from Forks then moved to Florida when mom and dad split up, then back to Forks, so was a small-town rather than a big-city city girl. I admitted New York had been a totally sensory overload for me and I'd spent the first five months hiding in my room at night rather than venturing out onto the teaming streets which were full of cars, and noise, and people rushing everywhere. It wasn't until I started dating an Italian-American guy called Angelo that I had the courage to emerge from my cave. It was springtime by then and I was sort-of 'in lust' for the first time. Angelo gradually eased me into the city's nightlife and I slowly began to feel as though I belonged in this world. Life got immeasurably better after my epiphany and by the time I left New York for the peace and quiet of a small Scottish town, I felt ready and able to take on whatever life threw at me, until of course I got the phone call from home which sent my world crashing down.

I stay at Jessica's until about ten then wander back to my apartment feeling pleased I've made a friend who's not a work colleague. I've agreed to be her alcohol supplier and she's agreed to take me out to some local music venues when I'm more settled. I love live music so her promise gives me something to look forward to, as even though New York has toughened me up, I still wouldn't have the courage to walk into a club on my own.

I glance out the window before I close the drapes, but the softly lit sidewalks are deserted by now. The room is cool and I shiver as I tug the heavy material across the windows to shut out the night then wander into the kitchen to make myself some hot chocolate. While the kettle is boiling I have a quick look through the pictures on my camera, then after I've wrapped myself in the quilt off my bed and made myself comfortable on the sofa I write a brief description of every mural I've visited today, but I still can't see any connection that links all of them.

The Café and the Devil – what was that all about? Could this unnamed café be in Seattle, and why has Satan set fire to it, if that's what he's done? What the hell (pun intended), has this café done to upset the Devil?

The random numbers – I still can't see any pattern or sequence in them, and there's nothing on the building or in the vicinity which gives me any clue as to why they were there.

The Football scene with my face on it – did he do it to frighten me, or was he just letting me know he knew I'd see it? It occurs to me then that unlike all the other spectators who are yelling at the players, my face is expressionless, as though I'm more interested in the artist than the game which is weird in itself. This makes me think again that maybe I _have_ met him before, but I won't know if that's true until I see his face clearly.

The Space Needle restaurant asking for food – why? Maybe the staff had gone on strike, or the diners were stuck up there because the elevators had failed and they'd already eaten the contents of the kitchen. Totally baffling. I wonder then whether this has happened before and scribble myself a note to check this out when I get into the office.

The stressed out animals near the Zoo – maybe he's an animal rights activist which is good news in my book. But they weren't typical zoo animals, like lions and tigers. They were the animals you'd find in the nearby forest; not exotic ones from around the world.

The school shooters and the crashed bus – topical and quite disturbing, but possibly not his. Actually I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's not his.

The out of line pictures in the Art Gallery – I try not to recall this one or I'll be dreaming about it all night. Is he protesting about the fact that he can't get his own pictures displayed in the gallery? He's probably from Seattle, and maybe the Frye have turned his works down; the answer could be as simple as this. I've always sympathised with artists from the past who work for years without recognition, then as soon as they're dead their art shoots up in value which really doesn't seem fair.

The upside down submarine – is this an anti-nuclear protest? He obviously wants us to focus on the sub as the rest of the picture is featureless. I wonder then how accurate it is, and if it is, I can understand why the Navy is pissed about this one.

The horse race dream – there's nothing on the wall or in the vicinity to connect with the mural, but the girl definitely looks a bit like me. I stare at the tiny picture on my camera screen and something suddenly occurs to me and I don't know why Jay and I hadn't thought of it before. The fact that it _isn't_ me in the hammock means that when he painted this picture, he only had a general idea of what I looked like. When he painted the football one, he had somehow found out what I _actually_ looked like, so if Jay and I could pinpoint the precise date the horse race mural appeared, the restricted time-frame might give us a clue as to how and when he found out about me. I'm almost tempted to text Jay this conundrum but it's almost eleven by now so decide to wait until morning.

Finally, Eleanor Roosevelt's words - _'The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams'_. Apparently the first of his paintings and maybe it's the key to all his future paintings. Are these his dreams? If so, why does he feel the need to tell everyone about them?

As I sip my chocolate I try to put myself in Hoodie Guy's mind-set, like I used to do when I sat for hours in galleries, gazing at work done by artists who hadn't followed convention but had taken art to another level; trying to guess what they were thinking when they chose the subject of their next painting. Hoodie Guy's art was conventional, in that the scenes were ones where you didn't have to be an art expert or a mind-reader to understand what the subject was, like the works of some contemporary abstract artists, but why had he chosen _those_ subjects? That's what I couldn't work out. There was nothing obvious to connect all of them but somehow I knew they were all linked, because when he stared at me on the waterfront I truly believe he was willing me to see something in the seascape mural that wasn't obvious; in other words something possibly nobody else but me could see.

The submarine, the shark and the words written on the boathouse all had a sea connection. The shark, the stressed-out animals and the horse race had an animal connection, Eleanor's words and the hammock girl had a dream connection, but I still couldn't see a common thread which ran through all of them.

I finish my chocolate, have a quick wash, brush my teeth and get into bed, still thinking about what I'd seen today and especially about the times I'd been shocked. I was ninety-nine percent certain there was no malicious intent on his part when he included my face in the crowd at CenturyLink Field three weeks ago, but the fact that he'd painted the swan in the parking lot after seeing me made me wonder whether he'd witnessed my reaction to the football mural and this was his way of apologising for shocking me. I'm sure if he'd wanted to frighten me or warn me off he could've drawn something infinitely more sinister on the wall instead of one of the most tranquil scenes imaginable.

As I snuggle under the quilt and close my eyes, I wonder whether he's out on the streets, right this minute, painting something else for me to see. I fall asleep hoping he really really really is.

* * *

I'm still in a deep, dreamless slumber when my noisy alarm shakes me into unwelcome consciousness. The air temperature in the room seems chillier than usual, which easily convinces me to give into temptation and stay snuggled, warm and cosy in my squishy-ly soft bed for another few minutes of toasty bliss before facing another day.

When I reluctantly accept I have to get up as I can't risk being late for work in my first week, I push the quilt away from me and dash into the bathroom for a shower. As I'm standing on the freezing tiled floor waiting for the water to run hot, I resolve to buy myself at least two fan heaters while I'm in Forks so I can transport them back to the apartment while I've got the use of Freddie. "It's almost May for God's sake," I moan as I pull my pajamas off and dive under the blistering spray which thaws my feet out instantly.

After my shower I wrap myself in my thick towelling robe and wander into the kitchen to make my morning bowl of awesomeness. While I'm eating and thinking about the day ahead, from the kitchen window I watch the pedestrians on the sidewalks as they wander past the front of my block until they disappear, but only spot one guy dressed similarly to Hoodie Guy. My heart skips a beat when I first see him appear and then I realise his posture is wrong and it isn't him, and I'm more than a tiny bit disappointed.

I make a mug of instant coffee and as I'm sipping it, I stroll over to the drapes to let some light in to the room. I tug the first drape across while keeping my eyes on the sidewalk then tug the next one as far back as possible. I turn to walk over to the sofa but stop dead in my tracks as my slow-functioning morning brain digests what I've just seen but which has only just sunk in.

I swallow hard and carefully put my mug down on the low coffee table. As I unfold myself, a cold chill slides down my back and it's like yesterday, and I'm in front of the football mural again.

I spin on my heel and stare through the window at the now familiar brick wall which blocks my view and my light.

Directly in line with my window, and probably somewhere between twenty-five and thirty feet off the ground, someone, in other words Hoodie Guy, has painted on the opposite wall one distinct, totally unequivocal and indisputably direct word in bright neon letters ...

 **BELIEVE**

... and I can't help shrieking.

It only takes me a few seconds to absorb the undeniable fact that somehow he's managed to climb a sheer wall during the night and paint this word outside my window while I was sleeping. When that slightly disturbing reality sinks in, I recognise he's crossed a massive line here as he now feels ready to communicate with me directly, and he's urging me to not give up searching for what I've always believed is there, which is there's a compelling reason why he's painting these unusual murals. I know then I've got to disconnect myself from everything else going on around me at the moment and concentrate fully on getting into Hoodie Guy's mind-set.

As I walk towards the window and place both my hands on the cold glass, as if doing this will help me get closer to him, I finally realise that for some unknown reason, and in my opinion for a _totally inexplicable_ reason, he genuinely believes I have the ability to do this.

* * *

 **Believe what? What do you think he's asking her to believe? Answers on a postcard to ...**

 **First of all, well done to those of you who guessed that he would paint something on the wall outside the window. Give yourself a pat on the head for reading MY mind.**

 **Secondly, (and amazingly), none of you so far have picked up on a glaring hint in the previous chapter. It's only a small clue as to what's happening, but I thought you guys would jump on it straight away. (Don't feel awful - Bella and Jay didn't pick up on it either). Don't worry about going back to read the chapter again; B and J will catch onto it fairly soon.**

 **As many of you know I'm a Brit, and an old one at that. I do an 'American' spellcheck before uploading each chapter, but occasionally an English word, spelling or saying sneaks through, so apologies if that throws you.** **I do know the basic differences that a windscreen is a windshield, the pavement is a sidewalk and the boot of a car is a trunk, etc. I've had a couple of complaints about 'writing like a Brit' too, but that's me, and I'm too old to change. If I got an American Beta to check and change my words, it wouldn't be my story any more.**

 **Next time, Bella goes off around the city again, trying to find out who Hoodie Guy is, and bumps into an old friend from Forks. (Obviously not Jacob - he's appearing later). I've realised Jake's not popular with you guys, is he?**

 **Joan xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER EIGHT**

* * *

 **Wednesday 26th April**

My journey to work was a total blur because I spent most of it with my eyes looking down, staring at the sidewalk. I only glanced up when I needed to cross a street or I'd accidentally bump into someone. Even though I was tempted, I was determined not to look behind me to see whether he was following me, as I was positive he'd be able to read me like an open book if he could see my face. I didn't want him to know he'd freaked me out again, even if this wasn't his intention. I was also trying to get my head around how and when he'd painted the word on the wall, and what he really meant by 'believe', so fixing my eyes on the sidewalk and not on the busy streets around me helped me focus my mind.

When I'd composed myself after seeing the word, I'd had the presence of mind to get my camera and take some photographs so I could show Jay. I had thought about calling him straight away, but there was absolutely no point winding him up first thing in the morning. It was better to wait until a shot of caffeine hits his bloodstream before telling him, and then present him with evidence of what _he_ would call 'another stalking incident'. I'm anticipating his immediate reaction will be to insist on notifying the police, which is absolutely not what I want to happen.

I reach the office in less than twenty minutes and actually beat Jay and Kirsty in this time. I dump my things on my desk and go to the kitchen to make coffee but have great difficulty spooning the grounds into the filter as my hands are still shaking because of the adrenalin overload.

"Get a grip, Bella," I hiss to myself as the water starts to boil. "You're a grown woman, not a simpering schoolgirl; you _will_ get to the bottom of this."

I mentally give myself a slap on the face and take some long, deep, calming breaths, which is the only thing I learned to do properly in my one and only yoga class. The heady aroma of rich Colombian coffee hits my brain via my nostrils and this also has a calming effect on me, so by the time I get back to the office carrying the two mugs, I feel slightly less anxious. At least I'm not slopping coffee everywhere as my hands have thankfully stopped shaking.

Jay had just arrived and his eyes light up when he sees the coffee.

"Gee thanks, honey," he jokes as he pulls his jacket and sweater off. "You're early," he comments brightly.

"Yeah, um, something happened this morning and I sort of bolted out of my apartment to get here. Get some of this down you first and I'll give you the whole story."

I put the coffees down and take my camera out of my bag but I can guess from Jay's silence he's on the point of exploding. He doesn't say anything but takes a few sips of his drink then drags his chair over to my desk. When I look at his face it's obvious he's furious and I notice one of his hands is in a tight ball, so I know I'll have to handle this situation carefully or he'll be straight on the phone to the cops.

"What the fuck has he done now?" he hisses.

I don't answer in words straight away, I just show him the pictures I took this morning. I hear Jay's sharp intake of breath but dive in before he has a chance to say anything.

"My window is at least twenty-five feet off the ground and looks out onto a poorly lit alley. I don't know when he painted this because it was already dark when I drew the drapes last night so it could've been there before I went to bed. I only noticed it this morning when I got up."

Jay takes hold of the camera and sweeps the images back and forth then hands it back to me and I can tell he's relieved it's nothing really serious. I guess he'd probably jumped to conclusions and thought Hoodie Guy had broken into my apartment or had accosted me on the way to work; something like that. He was still concerned though.

"Bella, this has gone too far. We've got to inform the cops now because this guy's stalking you. You're not safe."

Jay attempts to say this in a kindly, well-meaning tone, as I guess he doesn't want to give me the impression he's bullying me into doing something I clearly don't want to do, but I can tell by the tremor in his voice and the determined expression on his face he wants this to stop. I shake my head and take a few sips of coffee while I think about how to placate him.

"Jay," I start in a hopefully not too condescending manner, "I don't in any way feel _unsafe._ If he can climb a wall to paint a picture, or words in this instance, he could easily have climbed my wall to get into my apartment, but he didn't."

"Bella!"

"No, Jay. Will you let me explain the logic behind what I'm thinking?

Jay goes to say something then sighs and shrugs his shoulders so I continue.

"Take the picture of the swan for instance, which you have to admit is a beautiful painting. If he was trying to frighten me or warn me off doing anything to his murals, he wouldn't have drawn a serene, graceful swan floating on an idyllic pool of water lilies. He would've drawn an angry, aggressive swan, beating its wings and behaving in a threatening manner. Swans can be vicious birds, especially if their mate or young are being threatened, so I _genuinely_ believe the swan picture was an apology and a gesture of friendship. I also believe he's confident I won't do anything to undermine him, like trying to get him arrested, or destroying his work."

"But Bella," Jay responds but he doesn't say anything more, probably because he could tell by the determined look on _my_ face that I wasn't going to be moved on this.

"Okay," he grumbles, "but if he does _anything_ _else_ that's weird, I'm going over your head."

"Alright," I reply and grin at him then take a sip of my coffee signalling an end of the debate.

To be honest, I thought Jay would put up more of a fight over this, so I was relieved we didn't end up having a full blown argument. I hoped he would stay my friend and allie in the days to come so I wanted him to trust me as much as I wanted to trust him. I could tell he was still brooding though, so I stayed quiet while he reconciled the situation with himself.

"So what do you think the word 'believe' means?" he says eventually as he swings his feet up onto _my_ desk and leans back in his chair.

"I don't know," I reply as I give his feet a shove, after which he drops them back on the floor. "I've been thinking about the word, and my only guess is he's confirming to me there's a reason he's painting these murals and there's a message in there somewhere, which I haven't worked out yet, and he's asking me to believe it when I discover it. I've got a feeling he's either going to paint something else which will be the final clue, or something's going to happen which will make everything fall into place.

"So how do you think he did it?" Jay says as he drags his chair back to his own desk, sits down then puts his feet on his own desk. "I'm going to stop calling him Hoodie Guy from now on. He's now Seattle's very own Spiderman, or Spider-artist."

I smile before answering, imagining Hoodie Guy in a latex suit, clinging with the fingers of one hand to a building with a paintbrush in the other.

"I was thinking about this when I was walking to work because the gap between my building and the neighboring one is very narrow, so not enough room for a ladder or scaffolding. My guess is that he abseils from the roof and paints using a harness and a rope. When I think of all the places he's painted where the top of the mural is higher than arms-length, the wall either has a flat top, or a reasonably flat roof in the case of the Aquarium. It would save bringing a ladder with him and he could swing from one area of the wall to another. Both hands would be free for paint and brushes as well."

"That's true," Jay muses. "I never thought of that method. Still takes a lot of skill though and he wouldn't be able to stand back to check his work."

"I know, but I'm trying to practically work out how he does it without being seen. If he wears black and does this at night, he could get away with it. I still don't know how he paints so fast and so accurately in the dark though."

Jay goes silent for a while as though he's thinking about my explanation. After a few minutes he asks, "So what are you planning to do now?"

"I suppose I've got to follow orders and do what the Mayor told me to do," I sigh. "I'd better get hold of a list of schools and colleges and go visit their art departments. It's a long-shot, but at least I'll be able to report back to our lord and master I've fully investigated the line of enquiry he suggested."

"You okay to do this on your own? I've got a backlog of work to catch up on after yesterday."

"Yes, I'll be fine, thanks, and sorry for dragging you away from your computer for a whole afternoon yesterday."

"No worries and I enjoyed it. I'd prefer to be out with you again today but people might start talking." He winks at me suggestively but I can tell he isn't joking.

"Ha!" I exclaim, but he's right. I can't ask him to abandon his own responsibilities again and hold my hand all day, even if it is entirely innocent.

I call the Education Office and they email over the list of schools and colleges I asked for. In my ignorance I thought there wouldn't be very many, but there are pages and pages of addresses which completely freak me out. At first glance I figure it'll take me weeks to visit each one, and then I realise they've sent me a list of every high school and college in Washington state and I relax somewhat. Jay suggests I choose one area of Seattle to start with, so I pick the West Seattle district, as there are two large high schools and one college in close proximity, then I'll drive to Beacon Hill and visit as many there as possible before heading back towards the downtown area.

Before setting off, I print copies of the best example of each mural and pin them into a file then set off for the parking lot. I'm eager to see _my_ mural again, as when I saw it yesterday afternoon a mist of bewilderment had clouded my eyes and I wasn't in a fit state to give it a really close inspection.

When I get to the car I throw my bag inside then study the picture in detail. He's definitely copied one of Monet's famous water lily paintings; in fact it's almost an exact copy of the first Monet painting I'd ever laid eyes on, which was when I visited the Met in New York for the first time. I'd immediately fallen in love and awe with the painting as Monet had captured the reflection of a red-skied sunset on the shimmering water, which gave the pond an incredible feeling of warmth and depth, whereas water in pictures usually looked cold and unwelcoming. Hoodie Guy had replicated this effect incredibly well and the only difference between Monet's picture and the one I'm staring at was the presence of the magnificent swan floating in the centre.

She'd been beautifully drawn, (I'm presuming the swan is female), especially the texture of her feathers and the brightness of her golden eye that follows me as I move my head. I could just see the shadow of her webbed feet below the waterline and the minute effect they were having on the surface of the pond as her weight broke the absolute stillness of the water. It's a stunning painting and one I would love to have hanging in my apartment.

I move forward and touch the bone-dry paint which by now has lost yesterday's sheen and I wonder again how he managed to paint this so quickly and without being seen by anyone.

I spin around on my heel hoping to catch him watching me, but the lot is totally deserted. The only sound I can hear is the steady hum of traffic on the road above and the occasional tweet from birds nesting in crevices in the concrete walls and ceilings. I sigh as I get in the car and turn on the ignition as I know I'm no nearer to solving this mystery.

As I tap the first address onto the Satnav, I realise, quite guiltily, that Hoodie Guy has diverted my thoughts away from my dad's illness for the first time in over three months and this revelation shakes me to my core. Charlie's and my future have constantly been on my mind since I got the dreaded phone call, but I can honestly say when I woke this morning my thoughts were not about him but about Hoodie Guy. I resolve to call home this evening as I promised Charlie I would before heading back to Forks on Friday evening, and then I wonder how many more phone calls we have left before he succumbs to the cancer that's killing him.

I make my way out of the parking lot slowly as my eyes have filled with tears, but also I'm still checking whether my mystery man is hiding among the cars, then I admonish myself for being paranoid. I pull out into the traffic and head north towards the first school, which is West Seattle High School in California Avenue. It takes me over half an hour to get there because there's a traffic hold-up, but it gives me time to think about what to say when I speak to the staff at the reception desk.

I park Freddie in one of the visitor spots and make my way over to the main entrance. The security is tight so I have to speak over an intercom before I hear the door release and I'm allowed in. At the desk I flash my Seattle ID and ask to speak to anyone in the Art Department who's available. I'm told to wait in the hall, where I have the chance to have a look at some of the students' artwork on display which is pretty impressive. After waiting for about five minutes, a friendly faced, casually-dressed woman comes through another security door and introduces herself.

"Hello, I'm Kate Kendall, can I help you," she says as she proffers me her hand to shake.

"I hope so," I say as I open my file of pictures for her to view. "We're trying to trace the creator of these street paintings and wonder whether you knew of a student or an ex-student who has this level of ability?"

"Really, how interesting," Kate responds as she takes hold of the file and sits on one of the low visitors' chairs. "Is he or she in trouble may I ask?"

"No, not at all; the Mayor would just like to talk to him as he's obviously very talented."

"Why are you saying 'him'?" Kate asks. "Has someone been spotted painting any of these?"

"No, he's never been seen actually working on any of these murals, even though they're intricate and must've taken some time. It's just that my colleague and I have spotted a young guy hanging around when we've visited the murals and we guess it's him."

"Right," she muses as she flicks to and from each page. "They're stunning," she adds when her eyes rest on the Aquarium mural, then she closes the file and hands it back to me.

"I'm really sorry," she says as she stands up. "I've worked here for fifteen years but I can't think of anyone who painted as well as this when they were at the school. I'm not saying he didn't attend here; but if an ex-student has progressed to this level after leaving us, then I'd be very proud to take a small amount of credit."

"No worries," I reply as I put the file back in my bag. "Thank you for seeing me," I add as I hold out my hand to shake.

"I will ask around though," Kate adds but as she shakes my hand she grips it and doesn't let go.

"Miss Swan, I've got an idea. I'm in contact with all the other High School Art Heads in Seattle. We meet up about three times a year and I've got all their email addresses on a link. If you let me scan these pictures and you give me a brief description of who you think painted them, I'll email the details to my colleagues and give them the story, which will save you driving to every school."

"Oh wow!" I exclaim gratefully. "That would be brilliant; thank you," I gush as I'm thinking of all the time this will save.

Kate signals the receptionist to unlock the security door and beckons me to follow her through and then into a huge room situated at the end of a long corridor which I presume is a staff room. In one corner is a photocopier which also has a scanning facility linked to a computer. I hand over the pictures and Kate carefully scans each one into a file.

While the machine is working its magic, I tell Kate about Hoodie Guy and my History of Art degree and then about the job I've been assigned to do. She's genuinely interested and says her students would love it if I came to talk to them once I'd settled in. I promise to stay in touch with her and also to let her know whether I've been successful in tracking down the mystery artist.

Ten minutes later Freddie and I are back on the road and heading for Seattle Central College. Kate told me that the colleges weren't in her contact group but suggested I start at Central first as they have an outstanding and very forward thinking Arts Department. She's given me the name of the woman in charge and offered to call the college while I'm travelling there so they'll be expecting me.

I have to hang around in reception for about fifteen minutes this time as the head of Arts is off sick, so a call has gone out for one of the tutors to come and see me when he's finished his lecture. I kill time checking my personal emails and see I have some messages from my Scottish friends. I'm in the middle of typing a reply when I hear a man's voice, saying "Bella Swan?" in a questioning manner.

I look up and see a young guy walking towards me with a huge smile on his face and for a brief moment I don't recognise him. Then my brain engages and I shoot to my feet.

"Mike! Oh my God. What the hell are you doing here?"

Mike flings his arms around me and lifts me off the ground then gives me a smacking great kiss on the forehead.

"I work here, Bella. I've been tutoring here since September. Why the heck aren't you in Scotland?"

"Long story, Mike, but I have finished my degree. Can we go somewhere to talk?"

"Sure, come in and I'll find a quiet room. Just wait there and I'll sort out a visitors badge for you."

I pick up my bag and watch Mike as he chats to the receptionist while she prints off a badge for me. I can't believe I've just bumped into one of my best friends from Forks and I can sense a tear or two forming in my eyes.

The last time I'd seen Mike was just before I left for New York. He was two years above me in High School but we'd become really good friends when I joined an after-school art club he'd started when he was a junior which I took over when he graduated. He was home from college for the summer and I saw him the night before I left Forks, so he was one of the few people who knew where I was going and why.

Mike was the person who finally convinced me to get as far away from Jake as possible. He'd come home for the spring break just before I took my finals and when we met up he lectured me, quite forcefully, that Jake had an unhealthy and controlling influence on me and I should use going to college as a way of breaking it off. Without my knowledge, several of my girlfriends had contacted Mike and asked him to intervene as they were worried about me, so he'd come home to 'sort me out'. It wasn't until Mike sat me down and pointed out how Jake was controlling my life that I finally accepted what my friends had been saying all along was right.

It was Mike who suggested I put in late applications to colleges on the opposite side of the country without Jake's knowledge. Jake didn't want me to go to college at all, but relented as long as I stayed within driving distance of Forks, so I let him believe I'd only applied to Washington. The last thing I needed was a showdown with him while I was taking my finals, as my GPA had been wavering around 3.5 lately, where it had always been nearer to 4 before I hooked up with him. I couldn't have coped with any more stress in my life so I hid my offer letters from the other colleges when they arrived.

Straight after my final exam and one day before the senior prom, which was when I'd promised Jake he could get to 'final base', I left Forks by hiding in the back of dad's patrol car then hid-out in Florida with mom and Phil for the first week of the summer break before flying to Europe. They'd just moved to a larger house by the beach so were untraceable if Jake came looking for me straight away. Charlie had to deal with the repercussions after Jake turned up at my house to take me to the Prom, after which he went on a violent rampage around the town which culminated in him trashing and setting fire to my truck during the night. Dad arrested him for destruction of property and drinking underage and he spent three nights in jail. I hadn't seen Jake since, but I'd heard numerous stories from friends about how aggressive he'd become and that he was constantly being arrested then put on probation for various misdemeanors.

Mike had stayed a friend throughout the three years I was away but we only communicated by text as I wasn't on Facebook or any other social media as Jake could've used it to track me down. Once I moved to Scotland Mike very rarely texted, so I'd effectively lost touch with him. I'd definitely been planning to drop into his parents' store when I was in Forks and find out how he was doing and hopefully get in touch again, but now I didn't need to, and I'd found another friend in Seattle.

"Come on," Mike says as he beckons me towards an internal door. "We'll have coffee and you can tell me what you're doing here. To say I'm intrigued is an understatement."

I follow him down a long, quiet corridor and can't help glancing at his face every few steps. He'd changed so much since I last saw him in 2014, when he had long straggly hair, grungy clothes and a few face-piercings. Now he was neat and tidy in cream Dockers and a button-down shirt; the only evidence of his previous lifestyle being metal studs in both earlobes, a ying and yang tattoo on his left wrist and another undistinguishable tattoo just peeking out above his collar.

"Instant coffee okay?" Mike offers as we enter a room which I guess is a staff room because of the coffee-making facilities, plus it's an absolute tip. Every flat surface is covered with books or papers, and canvases of all sizes are stacked up against the walls. While Mike is making the coffee I look through about twenty of them but fail to spot anything that resembles Hoodie Guy's style and technique.

I clear a couple of chairs of the junk piled on them and get my file out my bag ready for Mike when he sits down, but before I have a chance to tell him why I'm here he comes out with the question I was hoping he wouldn't ask.

"How's Charlie? I haven't heard anything about him for a while."

"He's not well, Mike; that's why I'm home early. He's got cancer so I want to be near him. The tutors in Scotland let me finish my course and take my exams early which meant I missed the final month of lectures."

"Shit!" Mike exclaims. "You don't sound hopeful; is it really bad?"

"It's about as bad as it can get. He needs a transplant before the cancer starts spreading from his liver, which will be any time now apparently. He's having radiotherapy and other treatments which have kept the tumors at bay, but he's getting weaker and soon won't be able to physically cope with a major operation. So even if the doctors find a donor it might still be too late. I'm surprised your parents didn't tell you; the whole of Forks seems to know."

"I haven't been home for any length of time since Christmas. I went to Europe over Easter to visit some galleries so didn't get a chance to catch up with any gossip."

"Sounds wonderful," I sigh. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about it now or keep you from your students any longer than necessary, so let me tell you why I'm here, then maybe we can meet up after work one night for a real catch-up, okay?"

"Great idea," Mike agrees. "I know some amazing places to eat, so sometime next week then."

I smile in agreement as I pass the file to Mike who opens it then looks at me.

"Did you do these? I didn't put you down as a street artist, Bella."

"No, they're not mine!" I exclaim slightly huffily then realise Mike is joking as I spot the sides of his mouth curling up in a grin. I punch him in the arm and he pretends to fall sideways almost dropping the file. I grab it and we both start laughing.

"Whose are they then?" he says when he calms down. "They're really good."

"I, what I mean is, the City has no idea. The Mayor wants me to find out who's doing them as he wants to employ him. Do you recognise this guy's style or have you got any idea who's doing it?"

"No, I haven't got a clue. I could definitely ask around though. Can you leave the file with me?"

"Sure," I reply. "Is there any chance you could ping them over to the other colleges?"

"I couldn't, but my head of department could. I'll ask her when she gets back from sick leave which should be next week."

"Thanks," I reply gratefully. "That'll save me going around to every college."

"Is this what your job is then; tracking down graffiti artists?"

"Yes and no. My title is Urban Arts Consultant but I'll explain more when we meet up. I've still got the same cell number so can I take yours if it's different from the one I've got."

We check each other's numbers then chat about the pictures for a while. I tell him I think the artist is trying to send the city a message but I can't see anything in the pictures to link them together. Mike offers to look at them himself and see if he can work out what it is and would let me know if he did.

Mike also promises to call me after the weekend to arrange a meet up, but if he hears anything about Hoodie Guy on the grapevine he'd contact me before then. As he walks me to the point where we came in he asks me the other question I was expecting.

"Have you seen Jake since you left for New York?"

"No, and I don't want to either, but it's inevitable we'll bump into each other soon."

"Does he know you're in Seattle?"

"Not yet. Charlie hasn't mentioned it to anyone and luckily he shouldn't suspect. He's wasn't expecting me to be home from college for another month at least but I've got a feeling he's found out I've come back early. Charlie told me he came by the house last Sunday but I'd already gone."

"Good, well try and keep out of his way. My parents say he's a nasty piece of work. Even the folks on the reservation agree he's a loose-cannon and some of the girls are frightened of him. Just be careful, Bella."

"I will, Mike. I'm all grown up now so I can look after myself."

"He's six feet seven, Bella. You're what, five feet four or five. Don't be alone with him, okay?"

"Noted," I reply and give him a big smile but that shocks me. Jake had always been taller than the other guys, but six feet seven is ridiculous. He'd grown about five inches since I last saw him.

Mike walks me to the outside door and kisses me on the cheek this time.

"It's been great seeing you again, Bella. Be safe."

"Likewise and I will, Mike. If I can survive New York, I can survive anywhere."

He watches me as I walk to the car and waves as I open the door. As I start the ignition and put my seatbelt on, not for the first time do I regret that I'm not attracted to Mike at all. He would be the perfect boyfriend/future partner. He lives and breathes art, like me. He's hard working, well mannered, polite, good looking and a lot of fun, _and_ he's from Forks, but there's absolutely nothing there. I'd tried to fancy him when I joined his art club, but there was no spark, no chemistry, absolute zilch in the sex appeal department.

"Why?" I wail as I set off towards the office.

I drive into the parking lot but alas, there are no new surprises waiting for me there. Feeling slightly disappointed I wander over to the elevator and wait an age for it to come down. As I step in my cell buzzes so I pull it out of my pocket to read the message. It's from Kate at the High School.

 _Hi, there's a possibility I know who you're looking for. Call me!_

 _Kate :)_

* * *

 **At last - a lead (hopefully). What are the chances it's a wild goose chase though, but that would be boring wouldn't it?**

 **So it's nice she's met Mike and that he's also warned her about Jake. Six feet seven - that's huge (and more akin to the original Jacob in the Twilight books). She might need to borrow a stun gun or some pepper spray to have in her purse when she goes back to Forks on Friday, or borrow one of Charlie's shotguns and be done with it. (Shouldn't really say that, should I)!**

 **Next time ... it's cocktails with Kirsty, who turns out to know someone who might be able to help find Hoodie Guy. Then, Bella has an unexpected visitor.**

 **Thanks again for all your reviews; it's great to hear from 'old friends' again. Also thanks to the FanFiction sites that have recommended this story; that's really kind of you.**

 **Joan x**


	9. Chapter 9

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER NINE**

* * *

I sprint past Kirsty on the way to my office then hit the 'Call' button against Kate's number. It rings and rings until I get the generic voice message telling me to leave my number and she'll call back.

"Hi Kate, this is Bella. I'm in the office. Call me," I blurt out excitedly; my words coming out at rapid speed.

"What's up?" Jay asks as he pulls his feet off his desk. He's eating a very yummy looking _panini_ quite messily, which reminds me I'd forgotten to buy something for lunch on the way back from Mike's college. I was so happy about unexpectedly bumping into him that I totally forgot about dropping in to the deli after parking Freddie.

"Damn," I mutter under my breath as I'm feeling quite hungry now and don't really want to go out again as it's just started raining quite heavily. Then I wonder whether Kirsty has any of her peanut butter cookies left over.

"I wasn't expecting you back so soon," Jay comments as he wipes his face with the back of his hand. "Surely you haven't covered every one of Seattle's schools by now?"

"No need," I reply smugly. "The teacher I've just left a message with offered to email all the High School art coordinators with Hoodie Guy's details, and, believe it or not, I know one of the tutors at Central College. He's going to ask his boss to do the same for me. Anyway, I've just got a text from the High School tutor to say she might know who this guy is so I've called back and left a message."

"Cool," Jay responds as he deliberately and cruelly licks melted cheese off his fingers one by one just to taunt me, which makes my tummy complain very loudly.

"Do you want coffee?" I ask. Jay nods vigorously as he shoves the last piece of panini into his mouth so I make my way to the kitchen via Kirsty's desk. She's talking on the phone so I start the coffee machine and wait for her to finish the call, then saunter back for a 'chat'.

"I don't suppose you've got any of those cookies left," I ask sheepishly. "I've forgotten to get lunch and I'm starving."

"Sure," Kirsty replies and pulls a heavy-looking paper bag from under her desk. "There's all sorts in here. _Focaccia_ bread, slightly-stale cupcakes, cookies; help yourself."

"Thanks," I gush gratefully and dive in unashamedly. I choose a large chunk of soft Focaccia speckled with olives and one of the peanut butter cookies I had yesterday, (a giant one this time), and munch both of them while I make the coffee. On my way back to the office, Kirsty is already on the phone again but she frantically waves at me to stop. She puts her hand over the receiver and whispers, "Are you up for going for that drink after work tonight?"

"Sure," I whisper back immediately even though I guess I'll be tired by then, but I can't really say no after raiding her goody drawer.

Kirsty gives me the thumbs-up signal and continues with the call while I carry on to the office and place Jay's coffee on his desk. I see he's flicking through more pictures of hideous graffiti which have been sent in since yesterday, so even though I trust him to give me a shout if he's spots anything out of the ordinary he thinks I might be interested in, I drag my chair over and go through the rest of the emails with him. Not surprisingly there's nothing there worth visiting; it's just a sad collection of generic spray-painted garbage compared to Hoodie Guy's work, or 'Spider-Artist' as Jay's now calling him, but it's a great way of killing time until Kate calls me back.

I'm printing off some more of my photographs from yesterday and putting them in a new file when my cell rings. It's the call I've been waiting for.

"Hi," I say, trying not to sound _tooooo_ excited.

"Hello, Miss Swan," Kate replies. "Is it okay to talk; you're not driving are you?"

"No, I'm back in the office and please call me Bella. What have you found out?"

"Well, it may be a long shot, but one of my colleagues knows of a guy who runs an art club for disadvantaged youngsters in an abandoned warehouse in Rainier Beach. He's young, wears hoodies all the time and by all accounts is a brilliant artist. He's not interested in having anything to do with the art community in Seattle though; he just likes encouraging youngsters to express themselves through art. He supplies all the paint and materials for the kids as well."

"Wow, he sounds interesting. Have you got an address?"

"Yes, I'll text it to you. He runs the club on weekday evenings but I don't know which days. My colleague from the High School in Rainier Beach is finding out and he's promised to get back to me by tomorrow. I'll let you know as soon as I hear."

"Thanks," I reply gratefully. "If it's not him, he might know who the guy is. Whatever, it's a start, and at least I can tell the Mayor I've got a lead now. Thanks so much, Kate."

"You're welcome, Bella. I'll be in touch when I hear more."

With that Kate hangs up and I sit back in my chair feeling satisfied because something fruitful has come from my efforts today. The chance of this lead being Hoodie Guy is probably very small, but I have to start somewhere.

I spend the rest of the afternoon by printing an A3 set of Hoodie Guy's pictures so I can examine them closely, then marking up on a map where he's drawn his murals as I wonder whether there might be a message in the locations as well. At the end of the day I send an email to Jim giving him an update on progress just in case the Mayor asks. I thought it would be better to go through him as it would be too presumptuous of me to email the Mayor directly.

At five-thirty, Kirsty puts her head round the door.

"Come on, Bella," she urges me. "My cocktail will be losing its fizz if we don't get down there fast, _plus_ I'm desperate to hear all about Scotland and what you got up to there. Like do the guys wear kilts all the time and do they _really_ go commando?"

Jay nearly chokes when she says that and I started giggling like a three-year-old.

"Definitely commando in the summertime, Kirsty, but only before the midges arrive in August," I reply grinning evilly at Jay. I grab my purse and head out the door, then add, "allegedly," and dissolve into another fit of giggles.

We head to a really lively cocktail bar which is a short walk from the office and I'm amazed how many people are in there so early in the evening, which means, I presume, the cocktails must be really good. Kirsty seems to know everybody in there as there's a chorus of, 'Hi Kirsty', as soon as we walk through the door which totally surprises me. I'm guessing by this she's either a secret alcoholic or she's dating one of the staff. I'm sure I'll find out which option is correct soon enough. There's already a cocktail waiting for her on the counter and I see her eyes widen with glee when she spots it.

"My favorite," she trills as she sprints over and takes a long sip through a multi-coloured straw.

"What the hell is that?" I ask as the cocktail looks absolutely disgusting to me. It's a creamy-brown, thick liquid which clings to the side of the glass as Kirsty consumes it and it doesn't look at all appetising to me.

"It's a _Toblerone,_ Bella; pure heaven in a glass."

"What's in it?" I ask, still not convinced. To the uneducated eye it resembles rancid custard.

"Honey, Bailey's, Kahlua, Frangelico and Cream," she replies as she drags more of the cocktail up the straw until only about half is left in the glass.

"Jesus, that'll give you a heart attack. Your arteries are precious, Kirsty."

"Och, I know," she replies as she licks her lips. "I'll give these up when I'm thirty and drink nothing but Gin and Tonic like most middle-aged folks. Anyway, what are _you_ having? Don't say Coke; you look as though you need a pick-me-up."

I wrack my brains trying to think of a cocktail which doesn't have too much alcohol in it, or at least only one spirit so I won't get squiffy too quickly. I still have to walk home from here and considering what's happened in the last few days, I need to have my wits about me.

"A mojito please and not too strong," I reply as I rifle through my purse looking for my ID. I've had these before and rum doesn't seem to have a bad effect on my head, as long as I don't have too many.

"Coming right up," the bartender says cheerily without bothering to look at my proffered ID and then I spot him winking at Kirsty. Either this guy is her boyfriend or my mojito is going to have a double shot of rum in it.

We find a table near the window where I take a tentative first sip of my cocktail. It isn't too strong so she must be dating the barman who admittedly is very handsome.

"So what's with you and the guy behind the bar," I whisper furtively.

"Oh we're _very_ close," Kirsty says with a grin. "He's my twin brother, Duncan."

"No way!" I exclaim as he looks absolutely nothing like her. Kirsty is a skinny, freckly redhead; Duncan could easily be a poster-boy for college football as he's the quintessential all-American, dark-haired, square-jawed, well over six-foot tall quarterback.

"Yep, and I'm seven minutes older than him as well, which I used to my great advantage when we were growing up. He thinks he has the advantage over me now of course because of his size, but I know he'd never lay a finger on me."

He's looking over our way so I raise my glass to him and he smiles back. If I wasn't so tied up with my dad and work, he would definitely be on my radar as prospective boyfriend material.

"Does he have a girlfriend?" I ask innocently as I take a sip of my mojito.

"No," Kirsty replies then she looks me straight in my eye. "Duncan's gay."

I have to fling my free hand over my mouth to stop myself from spraying Kirsty with mojito. She hands me a napkin and collapses in a fit of giggles as I wipe my chin.

"You're joking, right?"

"Nope!"

"Jesus! What a waste to woman-kind."

"I know; but so many good-looking men _are_ gay. Would you believe I was the most popular girl in High-School because all the girls wanted me to introduce them to Duncan? I didn't have the heart to tell them he batted for the other team. He only came out to mom and dad last year."

"What did they say?"

"They'd known for a while. Said they guessed when he was about fourteen. They're cool with it though which is great."

We drink a toast to enlightened parents and while Kirsty is prattling on about Duncan being fortunate he lives in Seattle and not in other parts of the world where folks aren't so liberal, I think about a young guy who lived on the reservation who was ostracised because of his 'leanings'. I remember Jake referring to him as a 'faggot' and when I tried to defend him he got really mad at me. I should've dumped him then.

"So do you come here every night after work?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Yep. Duncan makes me a surprise cocktail off the list which is always waiting for me. I never know which one I'm going to get, but this one's my favorite. There's usually an ulterior motive when a Toblerone appears so he might be asking for a favor later. Anyway, drink up; I'm ready for cocktail number two."

"What!" I exclaim. "I've only had about three sips of mine. You have another; I'm okay for now."

Kirsty gets up and goes over to the bar and this time comes back with a strawberry daiquiri which I must admit looks rather gorgeous. When Kirsty tells me the main ingredient is rum, I decide to try one next; at least then I wouldn't be mixing spirits.

"So, where do you live?" I ask, recalling that Kirsty had already told me she still lived with her parents but I didn't know which part of Seattle she was from.

"Mom and dad moved to the Queen Anne District just over four years ago which is really nice and better for them now they're getting older. The place where we were living before was getting a reputation for being a bit rough, especially at night, so they got out while their place was still worth something. I was really pleased they moved as we're a lot nearer the city now."

"Where did you live before then?"

"In the Rainier Valley area. I used to go to Rainier Beach High School."

"Rainier Beach?" I nearly choke.

"Yes, why? Do you know people there?"

"No, I mean yes, I mean… Look this is a long shot. Do you know, or have you heard of a guy who runs an art club for disadvantaged youngsters somewhere in Rainier Beach?"

"You mean recently?" I haven't been down there for a while, but I've still got some High School friends I could ask. Do you want me to text them?"

"Would you?"

"Sure. What do you want to know?"

"Just the guy's name, how old he is roughly, where his club is, what nights he works, that sort of thing. Also, if he's an alright sort of guy."

"Can I ask why?"

"We're trying to find out who's responsible for some really cool murals which are springing up all over the city. It's a long-shot that it's him, but if it is he's not in any sort of trouble," I add hastily.

"Okay," Kirsty muses. "I'll get onto it tonight and let you know in the morning.

At this point the lovely Duncan wanders over to our table after gathering up empty glasses from other tables on the way.

"Can I get you ladies another cocktail?" he asks.

My alcoholic companion pipes up immediately. "Sex on the Beach, Dunc, and Bella will have….."

"A strawberry daiquiri please."

"Duncan, before you go…" Kirsty asks. "Do you know a young guy who runs an art club in Rainier Beach."

"I've heard of a guy who runs an art club, but I wouldn't call him young now. He's been doing it for years. A couple of my mates used to go there quite regularly but that was about ten years ago. Why?"

"Bella needs to speak to him; something to do with her job. Do you know what nights he's there?"

"When we were kids it was always Monday and Friday. I can't guarantee he's still doing the same now though."

"Thanks," I say at the same time as Kirsty, but I'm already thinking about this coming Friday. I can't go then because I'm going home; it would have to be Monday at the earliest which annoys me as I'll be wondering all over the weekend whether he's my Hoodie Guy. If he isn't, my list of leads will reduce to zero again.

"You're welcome," Duncan says and smiles. He goes to turn away but Kirsty stops him.

"So what's the favor you want then?" she asks with a smirk on her face.

"Jesus! Am I that transparent?" he says and I can see he's blushing already.

"Oh Yep!"

"Okay. Errrrrr, you know mom and dad are away this weekend?"

"Yessssssss!"

"Could you make yourself scarce as well? I'd really like to have the house to myself for a while."

"Why? ... Ah I see."

Kirsty nods to a young guy who's sitting at the bar and watching us intently. "What's it worth, Dunc?"

"I'll pay this week's bar bill."

"Deal."

"Deal… Friday _and_ Saturday night?"

"Hmmmmm, yeah okay."

Duncan hurries back to the bar with a huge grin on his face, but Kirsty has an even bigger one stretching from ear to ear.

"Don't tell Duncan, but I'm going away for the weekend anyway," she whispers. "My girlfriends and I are spending a couple of nights camping in the park."

"Whereabouts?" I whisper back. "I'm driving to Forks on Friday night; I could drop you somewhere."

"We're meeting up just outside Port Angeles. Would that be out of your way?"

"Absolutely not; I'm heading that way straight after work."

"Brilliant. I'll contribute towards the gas and the ferry. I suppose a lift back wouldn't be out of the question either, would it?"

I nod in agreement and I'm pleased I'll have company on the trip. I've worked it out that including the ferry to Bainbridge, the drive will take about four hours so the journey I wasn't really looking forward to should actually be a lot of fun.

Duncan comes back with our drinks and we drink a toast to 'Meet Cute', which is a term we both know from the romcom movie 'The Holiday' which we both adore. Kirsty bombards me then with questions about Scotland, especially about the men. I have to disappoint her about the kilt situation though as they're not a common sight unless you go to a 'Gathering', where you see pipe bands, caber tossing, hammer throwing et cetera, plus plenty of Scottish dancing. I also couldn't confirm whether kilted men went 'commando' or not, but it was fun to think it was mandatory.

I get home at about nine and make myself a mountain of grilled cheese as I'm starving by then. I swill it down with two mugs of hot chocolate which keeps me warm in my chilly apartment. If I'd still been in Scotland I would've bought fish and chips on the way home, but all the non-burger fast food places I passed were crowded and I didn't want to hang around waiting in a queue or sit at a table on my own. Cheese usually gives me nightmares if I have it late at night, but I have to chance it this time as I've nothing else in the fridge worth eating.

As I'm sipping my second mug of chocolate, I think about the arty guy in Rainier Beach and reluctantly accept I'm probably pinning too much hope on him being Hoodie Guy, when the chances are he has nothing to do with any of the murals. I still haven't seen Hoodie Guy's face properly, so even if I was standing in front of him I probably couldn't be certain it was him. But the sight of his piercing dark brown, almost black eyes staring at me when I was on the waterfront is still clear in my memory, and I'm positive if I saw them again, this would be how I'd recognise him.

Even though I've got my first lead, I consider today has been a wasted day as I'm still no nearer to working out why he's drawing the murals. I wonder if he's getting frustrated with me too as I feel I'm beating my head against a brick wall, and then I wonder how he'll find out when I have the 'Eureka' moment. Short of lying in wait and springing out on him if he comes past my apartment again, I can't think of any way of contacting him. Then I try again to think of a plausible reason why he's keeping his distance from me, and my only explanation is that he has something to hide? If this is the case, what could it possibly be?

I watch a bit of TV then shuffle off to bed so I can get to sleep before the cheese starts having an undesirable effect on me. I'm so tired I can't remember my head hitting the pillow, even though my bed and the pillows are freezing cold as usual.

* * *

I don't know what disturbs me, or what time it is when I wake during the night, but through my half-open eyelids I can tell it isn't morning yet as the room is still in darkness and the only sound audible is the faint hum of motor vehicles in the distance. But even though I can't hear anything in the apartment, I have the feeling I'm not alone.

I close my eyes again and stay absolutely still, hoping whoever it is will just take what they want and go. Then I remember the three cocktails I drank and the pile of grilled cheese I ate about an hour before bedtime, which probably means I'm just having a waking-nightmare.

I make the decision to open my eyes slowly but not to move my head, just in case I'm not imagining it, and then I can decide whether to scream or not. I can't hear anyone breathing, so whoever it is isn't near the bed which isn't much comfort to be honest. I crack one eye open the tiniest amount but can see absolutely nothing apart from the quilt bunched up around my face because of the cold.

The apartment is still absolutely silent so I mentally steel myself to be brave and get ready to open both my eyes fully and raise my head off the pillow at the same time. I count down from three then push myself up quickly so I'm half sitting-up, leaning on one elbow, then stare into the darkness. I look towards the kitchen, then across the room, then towards the bathroom, then back to this room again, and as I my eyes start to get used to the darkness it's at this point I see him. A tall, shadowy figure, dressed completely in black, standing with his back to the window and staring straight at me.

My eyes lock with his for two, three or maybe even four seconds, and then I blink, and in that instant he's gone. I try to cry out but no sound comes from my mouth, my body freezes and I'm unable to move even if I'd wanted to.

My eyes are getting more used to the darkness by now. Outlines of the furniture are becoming clearer but I still can't make out where he is. I'm trembling with fright, but I know I have to do or say something as I'm positive he's still in the apartment. I can see the door to the outside hall from where I'm lying and it definitely hasn't opened in the last few seconds as the light that's permanently on at the top of the stairs would illuminate the whole room as soon as he opened it.

"Come out," I try to yell, but my voice sounds more like a strangled squeak. I wait for about ten seconds then stretch over to the wall and flick my nightstand lamp on. For a moment I'm blinded when the room is flooded with light and instinctively I cover my eyes with one of my hands to lessen the glare.

Through my fingers I watch and wait for him to appear but there's total silence in the room. I can hear myself breathing rapidly and my face is burning up, even though my body is starting to shiver. In the end I know I have to get out of bed and face him.

I fling the quilt to one side, swing my feet out the bed and try to stand but my shaking legs go from underneath me and I have to hang onto the wall to stop myself from falling over. I'm only wearing a long, baggy t-shirt with no underwear which should make me feel extra vulnerable in this situation, but even though I'm frightened, I still don't have any fear that he'll attack me, presuming of course it is Hoodie Guy in my room and not some random pervert who's just dropped in on the off-chance. The thought it may be someone else fills me with dread but I'm determined not to show any fear when I come face to face with whoever it is.

"Come out!" I yell again and this time my voice comes out forcefully, but there's still no response from anywhere in the apartment.

He definitely isn't in this room, so I dash into the bathroom which is empty then run into the kitchen, expecting to see him standing there, but it's also empty and there's nowhere for him to hide. I run back to the main room window and fling the drapes open, but he isn't hiding behind them either and there's absolutely nowhere else in the apartment which could conceal a fully grown man.

I notice the security chain is still on the outside door so he must have escaped through a window. Both windows are the old-fashioned sash-type which don't have any locks, apart from a small bar to stop the lower one from moving upwards, which in the main room I can see is in place. Even if it wasn't I'm sure I would've seen him move the drapes and heard him open and close the window, plus I hadn't noticed any change in temperature or air-flow which would've been obvious if he'd escaped that way. I tug the window open and stick my head out into the cool night air, but there's no sign of any ladders or abseiling equipment on either my wall or the adjacent building and what I can see of the sidewalk is totally deserted.

Feeling defeated and totally confused, I wander into the kitchen and check the window behind the sink which is closed but not locked. The one thing I do notice though is the inside of the sink is very wet, but the last time I'd used the faucet was about six hours ago. This was when I'd filled the kettle for my hot chocolate, but I can't remember whether I'd soaked the sink doing this as I was also keeping my eye on the grill at the same time. Before this I'd used the faucet in the morning when I washed out my cereal bowl, but that was over twenty hours ago.

I get a mug, fill it with water and go back to bed, but I know I won't be able to sleep until I've gone over in my head what just happened. I leave the lamp on and arrange the pillows so I can sit upright for a while then pull the quilt up around my neck. It's only when I've got comfortable I remember I haven't closed the drapes, but I'm too cosy and warm to do anything about it now. I've stopped physically shaking, but instead I'm feeling slightly nauseous, probably due to the combination of three different cocktails, grilled cheese, hot chocolate and shock.

"Oh God; did I just dream this?" I ask aloud to any Deity who happens to be listening to the ramblings of a random girl in Seattle at four in the morning, but alas I get no response, either real or imaginary.

I lie back against my pillows and try to recall what I _actually_ saw, which was the shadowy shape of a man standing as far away from the bed as a person possibly could in this room. There wasn't enough natural light for me to see any features on his face clearly other than his eyes, but this time he didn't have his hood up and I could make out the shape of his head and his hair, which I could tell was long and straggly. His eyes were dark, but there was something different about them this time; something very strange about his expression. I shudder then thinking that I really could've been mistaken and a total stranger had gotten into in my room, yet I'm _still_ electing not to do anything about it. I dismiss this thought because the chance of an intruder having the same body shape as Hoodie Guy wasn't worth calculating, but also I know it could only have been him because of his eyes.

Logic was telling me I'd had a nightmare, and my desperation to discover who Hoodie Guy is and solve the mystery behind his murals had resulted in a vivid dream, which had manifested itself as an apparition of my mysterious artist, which then evaporated like a mirage as soon as I laid eyes on him. However the same logic couldn't explain how Hoodie Guy had painted his murals so quickly and without being seen, how he'd managed to disappear as soon as he was spotted, and how he'd painted the word ' _Believe'_ on the wall outside my window twenty-five feet off the ground, so logic should never be part of the equation when I or anybody else was trying to understand anything to do with this guy.

But what was it he wanted me to believe? This was the biggest question. Was he presuming I'd already worked out what the murals were about and was frustrated I wasn't taking action, or was he asking me to believe something else; something I hadn't thought of yet? If he was in my room, why the hell didn't he just leave me a message or at least a hint about what was on his mind.

I know when I work out the message behind the murals, if there is one of course, then I _will_ understand why he's doing this. Until that happens, it's like I'm playing a game of Clue, but all the cards have been hidden from me so I've absolutely no chance of finding out whether it was Colonel Mustard in the ballroom, with the candlestick, or the gun, or the lead pipe, or whatever.

I sip the water which helps with the nausea and slowly I begin to relax. I know for my own sanity I should be believing I'd dreamt the whole thing, because unless he's superhuman, which is ridiculous, I cannot imagine anybody could get into my apartment without waking me and then disappear again so quickly, without making a sound. I think carefully again about what I actually saw in the brief flash of clarity before I blinked. They were Hoodie Guy's eyes; there was absolutely no doubt about that. I'd never seen anyone with such an intense, dark stare. But there was something else in his eyes this time; something I hadn't seen before, and then I realised what it was.

It was pain.

* * *

 **Pain?**

 **Maybe he stubbed his toe climbing in through the kitchen window? Stop it Joan - be serious.**

 **Well now! Is she going to tell Jay about this, or is she going to keep it to herself? Jay did threaten to call the cops if anything else weird happened so she'll probably keep it quiet for the moment.**

 **Maybe it _was_ the grilled cheese though? Maybe she's been watching too many vampire movies (cough)? Or maybe he really was there in her room, watching her sleep? **

**Next time, Bella has a surprise on her way to work. Hoodie Guy finally makes contact (hooray). Then on Friday she drives home to Forks to see Charlie, where a certain someone is waiting for her. (Everyone is hissing now - I can hear you guys from my sofa).**

 **Joan x**

 **PS: The game 'Clue' is Cluedo in the UK. Just in case anyone's scratching their heads on this side of the pond.**


	10. Chapter 10

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TEN**

* * *

 **Thursday 27th April**

I'm woken by the deafening sound of my alarm, which somehow has ended up right next to my ear rather than being above me on the night stand. As soon as I open my eyes I realise I'd fallen asleep propped up on the pillows. My lamp was still on and the mug of water I'd been holding when I went back to bed after the excitements of the night had tipped over and soaked the quilt which now feels cold and damp against my legs.

"Holy Shit," I curse as I kick the quilt off then swing my legs out of bed. This is _not_ a good start to the day.

I'm expecting my room to be freezing as usual, but because I'd opened the drapes when I was looking for my imaginary (or not) intruder, the morning sun has found a path into my apartment. Consequently some springtime warmth has sneaked its way in and the difference is pleasantly obvious. I make a mental note to leave the drapes open at least a crack every night from now on as this is a nice change.

I stretch my limbs before standing upright and as I look towards where I'd seen those incredibly intense eyes staring at me, memories of last night come flooding back. I'm still convinced he was in my room, but realistically it wasn't at all credible he'd managed to escape without me hearing him move _and_ in a split second. Also, if he'd wanted to talk to me, why didn't he take the opportunity then? Why go to all the effort of breaking in, just to scare the living daylights out of me then vanish into thin air. It didn't make sense.

I wander over to the window and stare at the neighboring wall, hoping my visitor may have drawn an apology on it during the night, but there was nothing else written next to the 'Believe' word. I watch the sidewalk for a while but he doesn't walk past like before; nor is he leaning against _my_ lamp post like a character from a black and white movie; wearing a trench coat and a jauntily angled Fedora with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. I sigh and head for the bathroom, which unfortunately hasn't had the benefit of the sun's rays, so while I shiver waiting for the water to heat up, I make a mental note to buy a fluffy mat for the floor when I'm in Forks as well as a heater.

While I'm munching my crunchy cereal, I think about setting traps in the apartment, like sprinkling talcum powder on the window ledges to record his footprints, but then I dismiss this idea in case he slips and falls to his death on the sidewalk below. I briefly consider being sensible for once and informing the police, but there's no evidence to show anyone had broken in, so this would be a waste of time. In the end I decide that tonight I'm going to put a note in the window facing outward so he could see it; saying something like, "Talk to me; I don't bite!"

I walk out of the block into bright sunshine which instantly warms my bones and lifts my spirits enormously. I love the heat, even though it doesn't favor my very pale skin, but I take the risk of getting a touch of sunburn and turn my face towards the blazing orb which is already quite high in the sky and it feels awesome. I shuffle out of my jacket and consider taking it back to the apartment, but stuff it inside my bag instead, just in case it rains or turns cold this evening.

Before setting off on my journey, I look up and down the street to check whether Hoodie Guy is watching me but as usual he isn't there. What isn't usual though is that someone has tied a single pink carnation to _my_ lamp post, which is a bit weird.

I head towards the first junction where I turn left and notice the first lamp post I pass also has a pink carnation attached to it. I stop and look around me but no other lamp posts are adorned in this way which again is odd. I carry on walking to the next junction where I have to cross the road then turn right onto the next street along. Sure enough, as soon as I turn the corner there's another pink carnation.

A familiar prickly feeling which starts under your hairline then creeps down your back is present as I take an educated guess who's done this. I carry on walking and each time I change direction another pink carnation is tied to the first lamp post in the street. By the time I reach my building, I've counted eleven individual flowers.

When I get to my floor Kirsty is already there and she's grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Morning, Bella," she says in a very odd way, as if she knows an embarrassing secret about me. I wonder then whether I'm blushing because of the flowers, but I don't feel as though I am. A middle-aged guy called Clive walks past me then and winks jokingly at me, which convinces me that something strange is definitely going on.

I hurry to my office to be greeted by the sight of my desk completely obliterated by an enormous arrangement of pink carnations, the scent from which almost overwhelms me.

"What the …"

I almost drop the f-bomb but manage to stop myself in time. I can sense Kirsty is standing behind me and I just know she's desperate to find out who sent them. I can see a small envelope with my name on poking out the top, so I pluck it from its holder and draw out the card on which is written only three words…

 ** _'I'm truly sorry'_**

and I realise instantly this is his way of apologising for frightening me.

"Come on, Bella; tell all," Kirsty squeals.

She's practically running up and down on the spot with excitement but Jay is giving me 'the look' as he's probably guessed there's something more to this than the obvious reason.

"I don't know, Kirsty," I answer apologetically. "They could be from my ex-boyfriend in Forks I suppose. I know he wants to get back with me, _which is definitely not happening by-the-way_ , but he's not the hearts and flowers type so it's a mystery."

"Are there any clues on the card, like which florist delivered them?"

I turn the card over but it's blank and there's nothing on the flowers to indicate where they've come from.

"Who put them on my desk?" I ask.

"I did," Kirsty replied. "One of the receptionists from downstairs brought them up about ten minutes ago. They must've been delivered last night or very early before anyone was in."

I pick up the heavy arrangement which already has the stems soaking in a balloon shaped cellophane contraption filled with water, then carefully place it on top of a filing cabinet out the way. It would have to stay in the office as there's no way I could get it home, even if I wanted to. I sit down and stare up at the flowers for a while, trying to figure out how this guy's mind works.

"Penny for them," Jay comments drily. "What's going on, Bella?"

"I don't know, Jay. But whatever it is, it's totally weird."

"Coffee?" he offers.

"Please," I respond while I carry on staring at the flowers, as if they would give me the answer I was looking for.

I'm jolted out of my musings by my cell buzzing. It's a text from Kate.

 _'Bella, the guy runs his art club on Monday's and Friday's, from 7 until 9. I'll text you his address. I don't know his proper name, but everyone calls him 'Easy/EeeZee.'_

My eyes widen at the last word. Easy! What sort of name is that?

"What is it?" Jay asks as he places my coffee in front of me. I show him the text and he huffs when he finishes reading it.

"Do you want to go tomorrow?" he asks. "I'll go with you if you want."

"I can't," I say as I'm texting a thank you to Kate. "I'm going home for the weekend and it's a long drive so I want to set off straight from work. We can go Monday."

"I can't go on Monday; I've got a dental appointment and I've already cancelled it twice. It'll have to be next Friday."

"Absolutely not," I reply shaking my head. "I'm not leaving it a week. I'm okay to go on my own as the chances of it being Hoodie Guy are practically zero."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

"So who sent you the flowers, Bella?"

"I don't know," I reply, trying to sound unbothered.

"Bullshit!" Jay almost spits. "I watched you as you came through the door. There isn't a girl in the world who wouldn't have blushed or shrieked with delight, or had a totally 'girly' reaction, (Jay does the air-quotes thing), but you were completely un-phased as though you were expecting them. So what's going on?"

I knew I had to spill that I suspected they were from Hoodie Guy, but if I told him he'd been in my apartment when I was asleep I wouldn't have been able to stop him calling the police even though there was no evidence to prove it. I couldn't cope with any more drama during my first week in the job but I still had to give him a plausible response.

"Okay … when I came out of my apartment this morning there was a pink carnation tied to the lamp post outside my block. On every street corner on my way to work there was another one. Hoodie Guy knows the route I take to and from work, but we already knew this because he'd followed me home on Monday."

"So these are from Spider-Artist?"

"I'd guess so. I'm thinking that he regrets freaking me out when I saw the football mural and this is his way of apologising. The card just says 'I'm truly sorry'."

"Huh!" was Jay's eloquent response.

I give him one of my hard stares and look at the card again.

If he's written the words himself rather than the florist, he has beautiful italic handwriting, plus he's used proper black ink like on an ancient manuscript. I run my thumb over the card imagining him touching it while accepting this skill is somehow another clue to his character.

It comes to me that when our eyes locked last night, he realised straightaway that he'd frightened me, which was probably why I'd seen the look of pain in his eyes. This confirmed, without a shadow of a doubt, he _was_ in my room last night and I hadn't been imagining it. But how did he get in? How did he move so fast? Finally, how did he escape through the kitchen window without me hearing him?

There was something very strange and totally unexplainable happening here and I was no nearer to working out what it was.

* * *

The rest of Thursday was uneventful. I stayed in the office all day and helped Jay process instructions for the cleaning teams to blast evidence of worthless graffiti from Seattle's residential and business areas, including the murals of the school shooters and the submarine. There were some examples of new graffiti I earmarked for further investigation, including where someone with comedic tendencies had used the presence of an overhanging shrub on the top of a wall to draw faces underneath, so the bushy plant became the characters' hair. I'd seen this done several times before and it was very effective. Jay said he would check whether the owner of the wall really wanted it removed; if not it could stay there.

I spent Thursday evening cleaning the apartment, packing my bag for the weekend and writing a long shopping list. I managed to get everything I needed into a medium sized backpack as I'd have to carry it to work, but because I'll be driving Freddie back here on Sunday night, I'll be able to bring stuff from home on the way back, including some of my books. Before going to bed, I pop over to Jessica's to tell her I'll be away for the weekend and ask whether she's got any large pieces of plain paper, which luckily she has. When I get back I write the following message before attaching it to the inside of the window.

 _Thank you for the flowers. You are forgiven, but_ _please_ _don't do that again. Instead, come and talk to me. I_ _promise_ _I'll keep our conversation confidential if that's what you want._

I pull the drapes across but leave one side open about six inches this time then turn the light out. I can't get to sleep immediately as I can't help watching the window but eventually tiredness wins and I sleep like a log until the following morning.

* * *

 **Friday 28th April**

When I wake I can see the piece of paper with my message on from the bed and it hasn't moved during the night. The crack in the drape is allowing a magical beam of light to filter into the room and for a while I watch speckles of dust dancing in the sunshine before swinging my legs out of bed. It's Friday; the end of a long but surprisingly eventful week; one that I could have never in my wildest dreams have imagined five days ago.

I stroll over to the window and tug the other drape back to let some more light and warmth in, which is when I see his response. He'd painted a message on the glass in the same beautiful italics as on the card, but I have to pull my message off first and walk backwards to read the whole thing and to take in what he'd written.

 _"Thank you for your forgiveness, Bella, but we cannot meet until you work the puzzle out for yourself. I'll know when this happens, and then I will make myself known to you. It will be soon, I promise."_

I stare at the message in wonder, as it had been written on the _outside_ of the window, which meant he'd had to write each letter back-to-front, right to left so I could read it easily from the inside, but incredibly each word had been scribed absolutely perfectly. The italic font reminded me of letters you'd see on stained glass windows in old European churches and this in itself was evidence that this guy is a master of his art.

Even though yesterday I'd received flowers and a written card from him, this message was the first time he'd actually made any sort of purposeful contact with me about the murals and his words had effectively confirmed my suspicion there was a message in them. He was also inferring that somehow he'd know when I'd 'worked out the puzzle', which made me wonder then, quite seriously, whether my office was being bugged. This would also solve the mystery on how he knew my name.

I take some obligatory photographs, just in case the heavy rain that's forecast for the weekend washes the message away, then have my shower while still deep in thought. By promising me he'll make himself known to me, I guess he's telling me not to expend my energy trying to find out who he is, but to concentrate on the meaning behind his murals. I take from this it's important to him I work out this puzzle on my own rather than him tell me, and I can only think he wants me to draw my own conclusion about something he's trying to tell me; in other words he needs me to really 'believe' the message, rather than take what he says as gospel.

On my journey to work I imagine him swinging from a rope attached to the roof, writing those words on my window in the dark. It doesn't seem possible to me, a mere mortal, that someone is able to do this, especially with hardly any light. I think again about his murals which must have been drawn using the same technique and also in the dark, and I recall the lecture I attended after visiting the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, where the tutor told us how Michelangelo, and other painters like him, had managed to create perfectly precise masterpieces on ceilings while lying on their backs, often when there was minimal natural light to work with.

As I'm walking I notice that all the flowers on my route have been removed, either by Hoodie Guy or by the section of my department responsible for keeping the streets clean. I'm sad at this but they probably would've looked bedraggled by now. When I exit the elevator at work, the scent from my carnations is still evident all the way down the corridor, so they at least have survived the night. I make a mental note to top the water up before I disappear for the weekend.

Kirsty's massive camping backpack is propped up behind her desk but she's nowhere to be seen. I carry on to my office where I offload my own backpack and I'm pleased to see coffee waiting for me. When I open the drawer where I stow my purse during the day, I spot a brown paper bag at the back. I open it quietly so it doesn't rustle and see it's full of cookies of every conceivable variety and I know it's been placed there by Kirsty, obviously to keep it away from Jay's prying eyes.

I surreptitiously slide them into my backpack without Jay noticing and feel a teensy-weensy bit guilty about hiding my greediness from him, but when baked goods are at stake there's no such thing as loyalty between friends or colleagues, as I know he'd scoff the lot.

Jay and I have a meeting with Jim just after lunch where I update him on my search for Hoodie Guy. I don't mention that I think there's a hidden meaning in his murals or my face had appeared in one of them. He'd already been told about the painting of the swan in the parking lot but he wasn't really concerned about who'd drawn it, which suited me. All Jim was really interested in was sucking up to the Mayor, which meant delivering up Hoodie Guy as Exhibit A.

At five everybody was leaving promptly for the non-obligatory staff meeting in a bar on the waterfront, while Kirsty and I headed for the parking lot. Of course Kirsty hadn't seen my swan before, so I'm bombarded with questions about who'd drawn it et cetera. I fob her off with "I've no idea, but it's lovely, isn't it," which surprisingly seems to satisfy her curiosity, even though she knows about Hoodie Guy and his murals.

I fill Freddie up at the nearest gas station then drive to the pier to get the ferry to Bainbridge Island. The crossing is calm and Rainier looks magnificent on the horizon against a bright blue sky. The top of her almost-symmetrical slopes are still covered with snow after a long, cold winter, but her base is slowly thawing under the warm summer sun which gives the impression she's become detached from the earth and is floating in the atmosphere. When we reach the island, I head north towards the bridge which links Bainbridge to the mainland then follow this road until it crosses the water at Port Gamble. We continue on this road until we join the 101 which takes us through the Olympic National Park and directly on to Port Angeles. I'd travelled this route with Charlie many times before so knew it well, but I'd never driven it myself.

I drop Kirsty off on the outskirts of Port Angeles at a popular meeting point for walkers I remember from when I used to hike with kids from school. She's the first to arrive and I offer to wait with her, but she says she'll be fine so I drive off with a wave. Kirsty had been great company on the journey, but I'm relieved to have some peace and quiet so I can collect my thoughts and think about Charlie, including what we're going to do this weekend. I'm really looking forward to seeing him, and now that I've come to terms with the changes in his appearance, I know I'm going to have to start getting used to the fact that he isn't the same Charlie as the stoic and invincible man who'd inhabited his body before he got the news that he had liver cancer.

My dad had always been a fighter. He was a quiet but tenacious tough guy, who even though he saw the worst aspects of society, he was still hugely optimistic about life in general and always looked for the good in people. His gruff demeanor hid the fact that he was a softy at heart; but the Charlie I left behind at the bus station last Saturday had had the stuffing knocked out of him and he was angry, and that was because he didn't want me to be alone in the world without a father-figure to look out for me. How I'm going to deal with his mood as the months go by I haven't got a clue.

I feel absolutely shattered as I drive the last few miles, and even though I knew roughly how long the journey would take before setting out, I'm still shocked to see the clock in the car says it's almost nine. I've been driving for nearly four hours, apart from the time we spent on the Bainbridge ferry, and I don't remember the journey taking this long before, but then I'd usually fallen asleep in the car when Charlie was driving and I'd wake up when we either arrived in Seattle or back in our drive.

I turn into the familiar road and can just see our house in the distance as it's partially hidden by trees. The patrol car which is usually parked out front has gone and this makes me feel sad as being a cop is such a huge part of dad's life. He's still the 'Chief' as he's only on sick leave, but I guess losing the car will be significant for him as he's proud of his status in the community.

As I approach, I'm relieved to see there are no other cars parked in the drive because I'm not in the mood for company, other than Charlie's of course. I just want to get in, have something to eat then sleep.

The door opens before I have a chance to get out the car and Charlie's slim frame appears on the top step. His plaid over-shirt looks two sizes too big for him now and his pants are being held up by a belt, but visually he doesn't look any different from when I last saw him a week ago which makes me sigh with relief. I recall with a shudder the moment when I first saw him when I arrived home from Scotland, which was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. He'd become half the man I'd left only nine months previously when I flew home from New York before flying to Scotland, and I still don't know how I held it together when he hugged me. I could easily feel the ravages of cancer on his body even though I learned later it was only due to weight loss because the radiation treatment made him not want to eat.

"Hi dad," I call out cheerily. "Stay where you are; I've only got a small bag with me," I add as I can tell he's a bit unsteady on the top step.

I collect my coat and bag from the trunk and walk up the steps where dad flings his arms around me and kisses my forehead. He holds me slightly longer than usual and I know instinctively he's counting the times he has left to greet me like this.

"Welcome home, Bells. Come in out the cold. Sue brought a casserole over for us so I hope you're hungry."

"Starving," I answer gratefully. Even if I wasn't hungry I'd always find room for one of Sue's awesome casseroles. Then I realise what dad just said about it being cold. It's a lovely warm evening so he must be feeling cold even when it isn't, but I don't comment on this.

I take my backpack up to my room, wash my face quickly then dash down the stairs while dad plates up. As he's pouring himself a beer, I sit in my usual place at the kitchen table and it's like the last three years haven't happened at all and I'm still in High School. If I could turn back the clock I would, so I could make him attend his check-ups, but there's no point wishing for something that's not possible.

I'm surprised and really pleased to see him eating a full meal tonight as he'd lost his appetite during the week I stayed with him. Before I arrived he'd just finished a course of radiation treatment which was the final attempt to keep the tumours from spreading, and the treatment had wiped him out. Tonight he seemed to be more like his old self and it's only the slight yellowness of his skin tone and his shrunken body which confirmed his limited prognosis.

After dinner we talk about my job and I manage to convince him that I really am enjoying it so far. I tell him about Hoodie Guy's murals but nothing about the weirdness associated with the story. He's pleased when I tell him that Jay's a nice guy and I've made friends with Jessica and Kirsty. I'd already told him I'd bumped into Mike, so by the end of the conversation he said he now felt much more relaxed about me being in the city as I'm not on my own.

We talk about his treatment and the fruitless search for a donor which he said he'd come to terms with. The community were rallying round so he's never short of company, or for rides to and from the hospital. His friends from the reservation, especially Billy Black, have also been very supportive, which of course leads the conversation on to Jake.

"He's never got over you walking out on him, Bells," Charlie says philosophically. "I had a lot of grief from him for a while as you know, and Billy told me Jake did his utmost to find you, so be wary when you go into town."

"I will," I reply and pat him on the arm. "I'm all grown up now, dad; I spent two years in New York, so I know how to deal with assholes. Don't worry."

He gives me a funny look then smiles at me.

"I don't doubt that, Bella, but physically he's an animal. There's no-one around here who could win a fair or unfair fight with him so most folks stay out of his way. I had to pull my gun on him once to stop him beating a guy to death. He served three months for that."

"I didn't know he'd been in proper prison," I choked. "What happened?"

"The other guy wound him up; said he must be a relative of Bigfoot or something like that. Jake had been drinking and just went for him. Luckily I was in the vicinity and broke it up, but if I hadn't been there I'm sure Jake would've killed him. Jake apologised to me when he got out of jail; said a red mist had come over him, but I saw the look in his eyes that night and he was crazy for blood."

"Jesus," I respond shaking my head. "I had a lucky escape."

"You did, even though I doubt whether he'd touch a woman like that; the other guys on the reservation wouldn't stand for it. Jake wins his fights with women through intimidation and threats or so I've heard."

I can't help shuddering when he says this as I remember some of the veiled threats Jake said to me, like _he_ was going to be my 'first', or he'd kill any guy who came within ten yards of me in the future. This wasn't an issue now of course as he was too late to be my first, or second, or….. well, I needn't go any further. Maybe I'd have the pleasure of telling him this one day which might give him a reason to back off.

I needed to go into town to do some shopping which was now a problem. I'd planned on visiting Mike's parents' store to pick up some heaters and other essentials but now I was even more worried about bumping into Jake. The last thing I wanted was to get in an argument with him and for it to get back to Charlie. I decide then to get up early and be at the store when it opens. Hopefully at this time of the morning Jake would still be on the reservation sleeping off a hangover and I could slip in and out without anyone seeing me.

I wash up after dinner, give dad a kiss and go up to my room. It's always odd being back in my old bedroom but I love it here as I always sleep like a log. I open the window slightly so I can smell the pine trees and hear the moans and cracking noises they make when they bend in the breeze. It's a relatively still night, but the forest is still full of sound and I know this familiar lullaby will send me off to sleep very quickly.

As I lie on my pillow I think about Hoodie Guy and whether he'll visit my apartment again tonight. I'd left the drapes wide open so he could see in so hopefully he'll realise I'm not there. Maybe I should've left him another message? I don't remember much after having that thought.

* * *

 **Saturday 29** **th** **April**

I wake the next morning feeling refreshed after an unbroken night's sleep. I notice it's already nearly eight thirty and I'd planned to get to the store by nine, so I'm cross with myself for sleeping in. I jump out of bed, have a quick shower, fling some clothes on then head out the door after leaving Charlie a note telling him where I've gone.

I'm outside the store just after nine and I'm greeted like a long lost daughter by Mr and Mrs Newton. They'd always hoped I'd be their actual daughter-in-law one day and didn't make any secret of it with me and occasionally in front of Mike which was always a bit embarrassing for both of us. I have a feeling they're still hoping.

"You're up early?" Mr Newton comments as he gives me an all-encompassing hug.

"Yeah well, I'm trying to avoid Jacob so I'd be grateful if you didn't tell anyone I'm home this weekend."

"Sure thing, Bella," Mr Newton replies sagely. "Jake's a nasty piece of work and I don't like it when he comes in the store. Best stay out of his way."

"That's my intention," I reply.

"So what can I help you with young lady?"

I hand Mr Newton my list and spend the next fifteen minutes piling everything I need on the counter. I remember I have to leave room for Kirsty and her backpack for the journey home so if I couldn't fit all my purchases and her in the car this time, I could take the less essential things back next weekend.

"That's great," I say after Mrs Newton has priced everything up for me. I'm guessing they've given me a massive discount but I don't question it. I just hand my credit card over and punch away half of the remainder of my first month's salary after my rent is paid.

"I'll help you get this lot in the car," Mr Newton offers and begins picking up some of my purchases. I do the same and we're just making our way towards the door when we both hear the sound of a powerful motorbike coming along the street. Before I see the rider's face I know who it is.

"Get in the back," Mr Newton hisses so I turn on my heel, dump my goods on the floor and dive into the office behind the counter. Mrs Newton locks the door after me but I can still hear everything that's going on in the shop as the glass partition window is half-open. The security bell above the door jingles when Jake enters followed by his familiar voice barking at Mr Newton.

"Who owns that car?" he growls.

"Why?" I hear Mr Newton reply innocently.

"Never mind why; I want to know who owns that car?"

"It was parked here when we arrived this morning. Your guess is as good as mine."

"It was outside Chief Swan's house last night. I saw it."

"Well maybe he has visitors. Why don't you ask him?"

"I will, and if I find out you knew whose it was….."

"What, Jacob. What would you do? You're on probation, remember."

"Not for much longer, asshole!"

I hear an almighty crash which is probably Jake pushing something over out of spite, then the doorbell jingles again which I hope means he's exited the shop. I hear Mrs Newton sigh with relief and after waiting another thirty seconds or so just to be sure he's really gone, she opens the door and I creep out of my hiding place.

"Holy hell!" I exclaim when I see the mess he's made. Jake had pushed over a whole aisle of goods with just one swipe of his arm so I stay behind and help clear up the mess and re-stack the shelves which takes the three of us nearly half an hour.

After Mr Newton has checked the street to make sure Jake isn't watching, we load the car up and I set off for home feeling quite shaken as my initial bravado about standing up to Jake is rapidly flying out the window. I know I'll have to face him one day, even if I manage to avoid him until my dad's funeral, but I wouldn't think about that now. I just want to get home and be safe indoors. Charlie still holds an arsenal of legally-held weapons carefully stored around the house which he could threaten Jake with, but the last thing I want is for him to be involved in a confrontation.

I've only been on the road for about half a mile when through my open window I hear the sound I was dreading. A powerful motorbike is coming up behind me fast and in my rear-view mirror I can easily tell it's Jake as his long black hair is streaming out behind him. He's not wearing a helmet or any protective clothing and as he gets closer, the expression on his face is a picture of pure rage. I go cold, as I easily work out I'm not going to make it home before he catches up with me.

I skid around a tight bend which is the short-cut home through the forest and put my foot on the gas as far down as possible. There's no way I want to be caught by Jake in this deserted spot as no-one would hear me scream, but it's my only chance to get to the front door before he catches me. I keep my eye on the mirrors and less than three seconds later he rounds the bend as well. As I tear down the straight but undulating road I'm trying to decide whether I'm prepared to use Freddie as a battering ram in order to force him off the road, which is probably my only option in the circumstances.

By now he's rapidly gaining on me and I grit my teeth as I position my hands on the wheel ready to attempt to knock him off balance, but internally I'm screaming in terror. When he's almost right behind me I glance in the rear-view mirror and think maybe I should just slam my brakes on without warning, which would cause him to rear-end me.

But as I'm winding myself up to take this desperate step, at the same time praying to God or any other deity who is listening to my pleas to save me from this monster, in my side mirror I see a flash of something large and black shooting from the trees from the right-hand side of the road, and a terrifying split second later, Jacob Black and his massive motorbike completely disappear from view.

"Holy Shit!"

* * *

 **Bigfoot? Could be anything. Or do you think Hoodie Guy's followed her all the way from Seattle? Whatever, Bella's had a lucky escape.**

 **Next chapter, there'll be the first painfully obvious 'trigger' which _should_ set Bella and Jay on the right track to work out the connection in the murals. Hopefully they'll catch on when it happens, but other triggers will start happening straight after that and the penny will finally drop. Edward will be taking over the story very soon (you'll be delighted to hear), but only after you've found out what the murals have been leading up to.**

 **As always, thanks for all your reviews and your personal messages, and thank you as well to the Fiction Sites that are highlighting this story. I'm very touched and always grateful.**

 **Joan x**


	11. Chapter 11

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER ELEVEN**

* * *

I don't even think about pulling over to find out what happened to Jake, instead I press my foot hard on the gas and don't ease up until I'm outside the house. My hands are shaking so much I have difficulty undoing the seatbelt and my eyes are so full of tears I can't see what I'm doing, so I scream in frustration at my lack of dexterity. I scramble out the car, abandoning my purchases apart from my purse, then leap up the steps two at a time bursting through the unlocked door. With shaking hands I put the chain _and_ the bolt on then collapse with my back against the door and slowly sink to the floor in full view of Charlie, who's just coming down the stairs in his pajamas.

"Bella… what the hell?"

He hobbles towards me while I put my hands over my face and start to sob hysterically. At this exact moment the telephone on the wall rings and I can tell Charlie's torn between whether to answer it or ignore it. In the end he snatches hold of the receiver and shouts "WHAT!" using his familiar assertive 'Chief Swan' voice.

"Oh hello, Michael," he says slightly apologetically. "Yes, yes, she's here. What the hell's going on?"

I can't hear what's being said on the other end of the phone but can easily guess what the conversation is about. Michael is Mike's father, and he'd obviously seen Jake go after me and I suspect he's checking whether I've got home safely. I can tell Charlie is getting more and more agitated as the conversation goes on as his free hand has clenched into a fist and his knuckles are rapidly turning white. I want to kick Jake in the balls for doing this to my dad, never mind the fact he's just frightened the life out of me.

"I'll get that son-of-a-bitch if that's the last thing I do on this earth, Michael. Don't bother calling the station about what happened in the store. Leave this with me now would you. Bella's really upset so I'll make sure she's okay first then I'll get on to Wayne and get this sorted. I'm sure he'll pick up your security tape sometime during the day. Thanks for your concern."

Charlie turns to me after he disconnects the call but before he says anything to me I nod vigorously and wave my hand at him and point at the phone, directing him to do what he has to do. I'd rather him mobilise the full force of the Forks Police Department immediately so they can pick Jake up before he gets back on his bike and heads this way. Until he's in custody I'm not moving from this house and dad's side.

He punches the numbers on the phone so hard I suspect he's wishing it's Jake's face instead. I presume he's using the direct line to Wayne, the acting-Chief, because he presses more numbers than 911. When he gets through, my wonderful dad, Chief Swan, doesn't mince his words.

"Black's just terrorised my daughter, Wayne, and done some damage in Newton's Store which Michael's got recorded on tape. I want him picked up and thrown in the slammer for this. My Bella's in bits. He's violated his probation again so you don't need any other excuse to arrest him. I want him off the streets NOW. Do … you … hear… me … Wayne?"

I can hear some of the response which ends in 'you leave it with us, Chief', then Charlie slams the phone down and walks towards me with his hands outstretched.

"Up you get, Bells and tell me all about it," he says caringly and takes hold of my hands.

I allow him to pull me off the floor and walk me over to the sofa where we sit down together. He puts his arm around my shoulders and encourages me to lean my head against his chest, then he strokes my hair until I've calmed down which doesn't take long. I know I'm safe while I'm in this house with Charlie, but I'm trying not to think about what will happen when he's gone from my life and Jake is free to pursue me until he's had his satisfaction?

I tell him everything that happened, including every word Jake said to Mr Newton in the shop and the thinly disguised threats to their safety. Then I tell him about being chased along the road.

"I thought he was going to get me, dad," I say and start sobbing again. "He was right behind the car and then something weird happened."

"Weird?" he replies curiously as he stroked my hair.

"Something, I don't know what it was, came out from the forest in a flash and Jake and his bike completely vanished. I saw it all happen in my mirror."

"Where was this?"

"About half way down the forest road. His bike was about six feet away from my bumper and he filled my rear view mirror. I was just on the point of slamming my brakes on so he would crash into me, when I saw something black in my driver's side mirror coming across the road really fast, then Jake was gone."

"You mean he crashed?"

"No; it was more like the forest swallowed him up including whatever it was I suppose collided with him. I looked in the mirror but there was nothing to see. No wreckage, no smoke, no impact on the trees; one second he was there and then … he wasn't."

Charlie digests this in silence for a few seconds then gets up and wanders over to the phone. I watch him punch in the same numbers as before then wait several seconds for the call to be answered.

"Wayne, I've got some more information," he starts in a much calmer voice this time. "Bella shook him off on the forest road between Michael Newton's store and here. He may have crashed, so get a car down there to take a look. Let me know if you find him."

There's a pause when Wayne is responding then dad continues.

"Oh sure, if he's horribly injured leave him there and go get him in the morning." Then he adds after another pause and a chuckle, "Yeah yeah, I'm only joking but don't go easy on him. Drop him a couple of times when you're putting him in the ambulance; that sort of thing."

He puts the phone down and turns to me. "Breakfast?" he suggests in as cheery a voice as he can manage in the circumstances.

"I'll do it, dad," I reply and go to get up.

"Sit down, Bells; I'm not useless yet. I can and do make breakfast for myself every day. You just stay put and get yourself together, okay?"

"Okay dad," I reply gratefully, but I do get up to make the coffee. A strong hit of caffeine is what I really need right now.

As dad clatters around in the kitchen making scrambled eggs and toast, I try to recall what I really saw in my rear view mirror. Jake was right behind me; he was so close I could see the whites of his eyes and the look of pure hate in his face as he bent over his bike. Then I remember him taking his right hand off the handlebars and reaching inside his open jacket. I've a horrible feeling that maybe he was carrying a gun or some sort of weapon, and this notion makes me shudder. I remember glancing in my side mirror to check he wasn't coming alongside me before I slammed on my brakes, which was when I saw the dark shape appear from the trees travelling horizontally above the surface of the road, almost like whatever it was had been shot from a cannon. The next second Jake and his bike had totally disappeared.

'What was that dark shape?' I ask myself. 'Was it an animal or a bird, or Bigfoot even?' I can't even decide whether it was a solid object or a weird shaped animal because it happened so fast.

When I was a kid, the locals, especially the folks on the reservation, told tales about the forest being haunted, but I'd always thought they were just stories to keep the kids from straying too far from the town and into the depths of the forest, and consequently into the path of bears and other wild animals. I remember Jake telling me a yarn about undead people and werewolves roaming the forests of the Northern States and Canada and much further north in Alaska, but I put that down to over-consumption of fire-water or the whacky baccy he and his friends smoked. Whatever or whoever it was that saved me this morning I really didn't care, because I was extraordinarily grateful to whatever or whoever did it.

What actually happened would remain a mystery until Jake materialised either dead or alive, and for the first time ever in my life I truly wished death on another human being. I'd already come to the conclusion that Jake wouldn't stop pursuing me until he'd got his revenge on me for walking out on him which I'm sure had embarrassed him in front of his friends. I wonder then whether my name was legend around here as the only person, male or female, who'd got one over on Jacob Black, and getting his own back on me would restore his self-proclaimed reputation as invincible.

After we've finished breakfast, Charlie keeps watch on the road while I empty the car. We can hear police sirens coming from the direction of the forest and even the Park Ranger's helicopter is hovering above us for a while. Forks police and other local police forces were out in strength, purely out of respect for Charlie I have absolutely no doubt. Just as I'm bringing the last items into the house, the phone rings and I'm expecting to hear that Jake's been captured, but it's only Billy, who's completely distraught. The police had just been to the house looking for Jake, but neither him nor his bike were there. I can hear Billy telling Charlie that he's done with Jacob now and as far as he's concerned the cops can lock him up for good and throw away the key. I speak to Billy briefly and assure him I don't hold him or anyone else on the Reservation responsible for Jake's actions in any way. Billy had always been a decent man and a great friend to Charlie, but his son was now totally out of control.

We stay indoors all day just talking and watching sport on TV and hear nothing from the police until we get a call from Wayne at about six in the evening to say that Jake had just turned up at the hospital with Paul and was totally disorientated and quite severely beaten up. At about nine, Wayne calls back again to say Jake's right shoulder had been badly dislocated, his left wrist and several ribswere broken, one knee was smashed and he had numerous cuts and bruises over the rest of his body including his face. Before he went under the anaesthetic he claimed to the doctors and the police that he'd been attacked by a bear, but the doctors were absolutely certain this wasn't the case and had told the police there were no tell-tale scratch marks anywhere on his clothes or skin. In their opinion he had just been badly beaten up, probably by more than one person, and he was attempting to protect his reputation as a tough-guy.

I relax then as I'd been concerned that Jake would turn up at the house again but there's no chance of this happening now. Also I'd been worried that he might follow me back to Seattle when I left on Sunday afternoon. Even if for some reason he ignored the fact he was technically under arrest and somehow got past the guard at the hospital, the fact that he'd now got a smashed knee, a broken wrist and a dislocated arm meant he wouldn't be riding a bike any time soon, so this was a relief even if it was only temporary.

I get ready for bed straight after the call and I'm in the middle of brushing my teeth when the house starts to shake. I put my hands against the bathroom cupboard to stop the contents falling out until the tremor stops after about fifteen seconds then carry on brushing. I've felt and heard earth tremors in this region many times before and I'd guess this one was probably a magnitude four on the Richter scale. Folks here don't get out of bed for anything under a five so I'm not too bothered and finish cleaning up.

"You okay?" Dad shouts up the stairs.

"Fine," I reply and get into bed. I feel a couple of minor after-shocks during the night but go straight back to sleep again.

* * *

 **Sunday 30** **th** **April**

The next morning Charlie and I go out for a walk in the forest after breakfast then Sue and some of her family come over at one bringing lunch with them. I can see that Charlie is tired, but he's enjoying the company immensely. The Jacob situation is discussed briefly and the general consensus is the other guys on the reservation had come to the end of their tether and had beaten him to a pulp for going after me and he was too embarrassed to admit it. I don't say anything about what I saw coming out of the forest as I really didn't want to talk about it, and there was no point as it was unexplainable.

After dinner I have a quiet word with Sue while we're washing up and she promises to make sure Charlie takes it easy this evening after I've gone. I thank her for everything she's doing for him but she brushes it off saying he would do the same for her or her family if the boot was on the other foot, which I know is true.

I leave the house just after four o'clock as I'd arranged to meet Kirsty at five. I feel much happier driving away as dad is being well looked after and was in much better spirits than when I saw him last week. I just pray the doctors can find a donor soon as time is running out for him.

Kirsty is at the meeting point when I turn up and she looks exhausted. She hardly says a word as we wedge her backpack onto the back seat and is already fast asleep before I've driven out of Port Angeles. She doesn't wake up until I'm crossing the bridge to Bainbridge Island and she apologises for being such a lousy travel companion.

"No worries," I say as I pass her the bag containing the remainder of the cookies she gave me. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Hated every minute," she complains with her mouth full. "I don't know what possessed me to say yes to hiking across a fucking park. The last straw was that fucking earthquake. Can you imagine what that felt like when you're in the middle of the forest? It's pitch dark and you're miles from anywhere with massive great trees all around you?"

I try to supress a chuckle as I shake my head. "Must've been terrifying," I say trying to sound sympathetic.

"It was," she insists as she starts on her third cookie. "I hate earthquakes, they're so… unpredictable."

"You're living in the wrong state then. Washington has a pretty poor record for quakes. You should move to Florida."

"Yeah, but they have hurricanes and millions of tourists there, _and_ alligators. I'll stick to Washington thank you."

The rest of the journey is uneventful and I drop her off at about eight-thirty. I drive to my apartment and luckily find a parking space nearby where it's free to stay until eight in the morning. I have to do three trips to and from the car to get all my purchases into the lobby then up two flights of stairs into my apartment, so by the time I finally close the door behind me I'm exhausted. Alas Hoodie Guy hasn't left any messages for me so I set the alarm for seven then fall into bed and sleep like the dead.

* * *

 **Monday 1** **st** **May**

It feels strange taking the car to work the next morning, driving along streets I normally walk along. I have to go out of my way a bit to get to the gas station to fill Freddie up so I could prove to Jim I'd paid for the gas I'd consumed over the weekend. Also I have to take some detours as two of the roads on my usual route are one way only, but I find my way to the parking lot without too much trouble and proudly without needing to use my Satnav. I'm in the office way before everybody else so I make myself coffee and use the peace and quiet to look up the address where I'm going this evening to familiarise myself with the journey, just in case the Satnav fails me.

Jay arrives just before nine. "Good weekend," he asks, then adds, "How was your dad?"

"Okay," I reply with a smile. "He was a lot better than last weekend, thanks."

"That's good. Soooooo… Did any more weirdness follow you to Forks?"

I chuckle before answering because he's not expecting me to say yes. "You could say that, but Forks is a weird place anyway."

"What happened then? Has our elusive artist painted a mural all over your dad's house for instance?"

I hadn't planned to mention what happened, but I decide to tell him because he's eminently sensible when faced with a problem that needs solving. If he could solve this one it would be a miracle though.

"No, nothing like that," I giggle. "You remember the ex-boyfriend I was telling you about? He's obviously still pissed with me and was following me on his motorbike when he just disappeared."

"You mean, 'Poooof! Disappeared?" Jay does quite a good impression of a wizard flourishing his magic wand.

I giggle again as I elaborate further.

"This thing, whatever it was, appeared out of nowhere and Jake vanished into the forest. I saw it happen."

Jay looks at me with a curious expression on his face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yep! Poof, he was gone."

"Did he vanish completely? What I mean is, has he been found yet?"

"Well, he showed up at the hospital hours later pretty badly injured. He said he'd been attacked by a bear, but bears have claws and teeth and he had no scratch or bite marks on him. He had to have surgery and the police are going to question him when he recovers. He's on probation so shouldn't be getting into fights, plus he smashed up the store where I was hiding from him so he's in big trouble anyway."

"Jesus, Bella, is your life always like this? I never put you down as being a gangster's moll."

I laugh at that then shake my head.

"To be honest, Jay, until I came back to Seattle my life had been pretty uneventful. Jake was a mistake I made when I was kid, but I had no idea he held such a grudge against me for dumping him or that he still wants me back. I've managed to avoid him up until now as I've hardly been home in the last three years. I spent every second of my breaks and free time touring North American or European art galleries. When I did go home once for Christmas, Jake was on probation and confined to the Reservation so I didn't see him."

"Are you scared of him?"

"Terrified, but hopefully because of what happened this weekend he'll either go to prison or be ordered to stay on the Reservation when I'm home. My dad is going to speak to the Quileute elders this week and see whether they can help."

Jay goes back to his desk and starts flicking through the weekend emails while I make the coffee. I say hello to Kirsty on the way but she's slumped over her desk and all I get is a grunt in response. She still looks half-dead and also very sun-burned which I hadn't noticed last night. It wasn't that hot this weekend but she's a redhead, so she's obviously suffered from being outdoors without a hat and sunscreen.

"Any more murals from Hoodie Guy this weekend," I ask as I hand Jay his coffee.

"Nope. He must've gone away for the weekend. Maybe he followed you to Forks?"

"Ha friggin' ha," I reply. "If he's the guy in Rainier Beach he'd be teaching on Friday nights, not racing down the 101 after me."

We drink coffee and chat about our weekends until the Monday morning staff meeting where I have to give an update on progress on finding the elusive artist. Afterwards, Jay and I go through all the new emails with pictures attached and I make a list of those that deserve a visit from me. I'll do that tomorrow as I'm still tired from the journey yesterday and have to drive quite a long way this evening. To be honest I just killed time today as there wasn't much going on. The mini-earthquake had caused a few problems in the city where it was measured as a 4.5 but there was no significant damage to property or any loss of life fortunately.

During the afternoon Kirsty pops her head around the door to say there's some juicy gossip going around the office as apparently the Mayor had to take the day off today due to problems at home. Allegedly his wife found out that he was having dinner in a restaurant on Saturday night with another woman when he said he was attending a business meeting. We all have a bit of a giggle about this, imagining him getting the ear-bashing from hell from his other half. Kirsty promises to find out more and report back later.

I decide to set off for Rainier Beach at five-thirty to give myself plenty of time to get to the art club. I don't have a clue how heavy the traffic could be between downtown and where I need to be as it's an area of the city I've never visited before, but I estimate about an hour would be enough for the journey. I want to get there early so I can talk to him before the kids turn up, but if I get there much too early and he isn't there, I'll find the nearest McDonalds and wait.

I punch the address into the Satnav and set off southwards towards the 5. The Freeway is nose to tail driving by then and I get stuck between junctions and hardly move for half an hour because of an accident. When I see blue lights flashing ahead I decide to turn off before I'd planned and find another less crowded way, then have to put up with the Satnav telling me off every five minutes when I purposely go off course to avoid sitting in traffic again.

About half a mile from my destination I stop at McDonalds to use the bathroom and quickly devour a Filet-O-Fish and a strawberry shake before getting back in the car. The roads are much quieter by now, probably because everybody has made it home. I reach the general area near the club about fifteen minutes later at just after seven, and as I pull up I'm feeling nervously excited about the fact I might be meeting my elusive artist/stalker in the next few minutes.

The building I'm staring at is a dilapidated warehouse situated on the edge of a run-down industrial estate. The whole area is eerily quiet and it reminds me of one of those scenes from a movie where the world has come to an end and the only people left on earth have to fight undead zombies to survive. If I hadn't viewed this area on Google Maps before travelling, I would've believed Kate had sent me the wrong address. "Get a grip, Bella," I say out loud, but I can't stop myself feeling a bit nervous about being in such an isolated spot.

I get my bag containing the file of pictures off the passenger seat and clamber out the car. As I lock it, the silence is broken by a high-pitched squeal which makes me jump and I'm instantly on edge, but the squeal is followed by the sound of children laughing which confirms I'm in the right place. I brush down my clothes and run my tongue over my teeth to make sure there's no evidence of McDonalds anywhere, then work my fingers through my hair to fluff it up a bit and take a deep breath.

There's only one door into the warehouse that I can see so I cautiously open it as I don't want to knock a child over if he or she is standing behind it, but the door only leads to a long, thin corridor full of boxes and crates which stretches the whole length of the building. However in front of me are three steps leading up to another door which I slowly open and then peer in.

The first person I see is a boy aged about ten who has his back to me. He's leaning over a flat surface covered with paints and paper and is so engrossed in what he's doing he doesn't look up to see who's come in. I stick my head further into the room and my instant assessment is there are at least thirty children of both sexes and different ages in here, all quietly working on their projects.

I look around to see whether I can spot 'Easy' but he's nowhere in sight, nor are there any other adults in the room which surprises me. The concrete floored space is vast and the unusually high ceiling is evidence that this had probably been a storage facility some years ago. Now it's an incredibly cool classroom and it's also an art gallery, as the lower half of every one of the cinder block walls is adorned with examples of the children's work. As well as paintings which have been skilfully mounted using colorful borders to enhance the subject, there are also shelves full of _Papier_ _Mache_ and balsa wood models, pottery objects crafted using different colored clays - some painted, some not, and some weird and wonderful sculptures made out of recycled materials. In the corner I spot a kiln and a potter's wheel but they're not being used at the moment.

A young girl who I guess is aged about twelve or thirteen is smiling at me and she beckons to me to come in.

"Hi," she says as she looks me up and down. "Are you looking for Easy?"

"Yes I am," I reply. "Is he around?"

"He may have gone to the bathroom," she replies shrugging her shoulders. "Do you want to see what I'm painting?" she offers.

"Sure," I reply as I walk over to her easel and stand behind her.

"Wow!" I exclaim genuinely as the uncompleted picture is already stunning. The girl, whose name I guess is Carly as it's on a silver chain around her neck, is painting the face of a lion, copying it from a photograph. She's working on the central part of the face and had already made a great start with the eyes and nose.

"Easy told me to begin with the eyes and work outwards, rather than draw an outline of the head and work inwards. What do you think?"

"I think Easy's right, don't you?"

"Easy's always right; he's brilliant."

"I'm glad you think so."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Bella; I work for the city."

"You're not going to close us down, are you?" she replies instantly and a look of horror flashes across her face.

"No, of course not; why do you say that?"

"Oh, we always worry about being moved on one day. People have been talking about redeveloping this place but nothing happens. Easy says he'll just find somewhere else if we're chucked out but I guess it's not that simple to find somewhere as cool as this."

"Probably not," I agree and look around me again. I still can't see Easy so I go over to talk to a boy aged about fifteen who's finishing off a painting of an astronaut walking on the surface of an imaginary planet which has a panoramic sky full of celestial objects behind it. It's an absolutely stunning effort, showing amazing skill for a boy of his age. I can tell he's used spray paint on some parts of the picture but now he's working on the astronaut's reflective visor with a fine brush. He looks up at me and smiles then turns back to his work without saying anything and I can tell he doesn't want to be disturbed.

I wander around the room amazed at the work these children are producing, which is far more advanced than any teacher could normally expect from kids of this age. I'm totally engrossed in one piece of work when I feel a presence behind me and I know it's him.

I go to turn to speak to him but before I have a chance to say anything, a very young child aged about eight shouts 'Easy' from across the room and he instantly turns and walks towards her.

I spin on my heel and watch him move gracefully between the tables then he crouches down to look at her work. I hear her squeal with laughter and then he gives the top of her head a friendly rub.

"Is this Hoodie Guy?" I ask myself as I take in the man who still has his back to me. He's tall and slim with broad shoulders, so his height and frame certainly ticks the first box. His thick layered hair is a warm brown with auburn highlights and is a couple of inches longer than his collar which ticks the next box. His clothes I can't assess though as he's wearing navy coveralls which are covered in splashes of paint. If someone had told me the fabric had been designed by Jackson Pollock I would believe them. I just needed to see his eyes and hear his voice and then I'd know for certain.

I wait patiently while he attends to the children who are asking for his advice or seeking his approval and watch with wonder as he guides and encourages each one. I catch brief glimpses of his face which is lean and angular, but he hasn't looked straight at me yet.

When he's finishing with a child and no new requests for attention are being called out, I walk over to where he's standing and look at the young child's work. It's a Papier Mache model of a sheep that she's finishing off with paint and it's very effective.

"That's lovely," I say to the girl and she beams up at me.

"Yes it is," Easy responds and I can sense he's now looking straight at me.

I unfold myself from my bent position knowing this is the moment of truth. Am I standing within touching distance of the man who has drawn my face on a mural, who knew I was coming to Seattle three weeks before I arrived, who's been in my apartment while I was sleeping and sent me flowers to apologise? In a few seconds I would know for sure.

I look up directly into Easy's eyes expecting to recognise them instantly, but they aren't like Hoodie Guy's at all. Easy's eyes are a color I've never seen on any human before and they take my breath away, because the eyes which are now fixed on mine are _golden._

* * *

 ** _And we can all guess why!_**

 ** _A lot of you have been asking whether Hoodie Guy's a vampire; well I think it's pretty obvious now that he is. I've sort of being laying it on with a trowel lately; scaling buildings, disappearing quickly, obviously following her scent. So he's also teaching art as well. (There's no point me trying to hide from you the fact that they're the same guy; that would just be stupid)._**

 ** _Of course Bella isn't going to suspect this or that he's anything other than human, so she's going to be flummoxed still about what's going on. Jay on the other hand is on the point of starting to think 'outside the box', especially when something happens in the next chapter to nudge them towards realising that two of the murals at least were predicting the recent earthquake. (Why haven't they done this already - doh!)_**

 ** _A lot of you are querying why he's got long hair for a change (it's not always straggly BTW). There is a very good reason for this, which you will find out in chapter 15. (Have a stiff drink and the Kleenex ready)._**

 ** _The penny will drop in the next chapter and Bella will finally start to realise what he's been trying to tell her, but she'll still have no clue what he's leading her towards. That will be in the following chapter, so not long now until you know absolutely EVERYTHING!_**

 ** _Joan xx_**


	12. Chapter 12

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWELVE**

* * *

"Welcome to our Club," Easy says in a gentle voice then smiles broadly at me, crinkling the skin around his beautiful golden eyes which softens the intensity of his stare. "I'd shake your hand but mine are covered in paint," he continues, holding them up as evidence.

I realise with embarrassment my mouth is hanging open, because the face of the man I'm staring at reminds me of the divinely beautiful creatures who grace the canvases of fifteenth and sixteenth century Renaissance paintings. In other words it's as though a heavenly angel has come to life, clambered away from the surface of a canvas and is now living and breathing in my twenty-first century world.

"Err…. Hi," I stutter after a few seconds of speechlessness after which I feel totally stupid as I probably resemble a ventriloquist's dummy. "I'm, I'm, I'm Bella, Bella Swan. I work at Seattle's Municipal Offices. Would you like to check my security badge?"

"Please," he replies and beckons me to follow him to his desk. I fumble in my bag and pull out my identification and hand it to him. He smiles and gives it back to me.

"So, how can I help you? Have I upset someone at City Hall?" he enquires politely, but I can tell it isn't a serious question.

I'm completely like mush in his presence. His eyes are off-puttingly beautiful; like a Greek god's eyes would be I would imagine. I can't take my own eyes off them and wonder whether he's wearing contacts as the color of his irises are so unusual to the point of being unnatural. I can't guess his age either. His skin is polished, flawless, for someone who allegedly is at least in his mid to late thirties according to Kirsty's brother. He looks twenty…, maybe twenty five at a push, but he has the manner of someone much older; like he's already experienced a great deal of life.

There's also something elegant about him, even though he's wearing loose-fitting, paint-spattered coveralls and his shoulder-length hair, although not straggly, needs brushing. His paint-covered fingers are long and slim; similar to the guy's who opened the door for me in the store. As he wipes them on a cloth he's pulled from his pocket, I can imagine them holding the finest of brushes; delicately working on a canvas, bringing a painting to life with his skill. Then my mind goes into sordid-mode and I think about what else he could do with those fingers.

"Bella?" he says, making my name sound like a question, which snaps me out of my un-Christian thoughts.

"Sorry," I apologise as I struggle to pull the file of pictures from my bag. "I'm so bowled over by what's happening here, it's actually left me speechless," I explain hoping he won't pick up that it's him that's leaving me speechless, not his club.

He chuckles at my compliment and I receive another one of his spectacular smiles in return.

"Thank you; that's very kind of you to say so. The kids are amazing, aren't they? When they first come to me they just need a bit of guidance then a gentle push in the right direction and then I let them fly. Each child here has different levels of ability, but once they find out what they're good at I help them take their skill to the next level and then the next. Before long they don't need me anymore; they're able fly solo."

"That's wonderful," I gush as I can tell he means every word he says as he's looking almost lovingly at the children and not at me.

I feel as though I could easily fall head over heels for this man and I'm already hoping and praying there isn't a 'Mrs Easy' lurking anywhere in the vicinity. On top of his outrageous good looks, the way he talks about the children is enough to make any pre-menopausal woman's ovaries explode. In fact I'm ready and willing to have his babies right now.

Despite being in the divine presence of Mr Golden-Eyes, Sex-on-Legs and all-round good chap, I have to focus and return to work-mode so I open the file and show him the photograph of the mural at the Aquarium.

"The Mayor wants me to find out who drew this and all the other paintings in this file. He, she or they aren't in any sort of trouble though. The Mayor would like to commission them to do other work in the city, so it's my job to track the artist or artists down. Have you any idea who might be responsible?"

"He reaches over and takes the file from my hands then flicks through the pages; staring at each photograph in turn very carefully. I note he pays close attention to each one but keeps going back to the picture of the school gun attack."

"That's not by the same artist," he says assertively and hands the file back to me.

"How can you tell?" I ask even though he's come to the same conclusion as I did when I saw it.

"Instinct," he replies then he elaborates. "The other pictures have been drawn with care. There are extra flourishes on each one; little details that you only see if you look closely. The artist is displaying his skill over and above just painting what he wants the public to see. There's nothing special about the school picture; no flair, no artistry. It's just a comment on something that's currently in the news."

I stare at the picture and what he says justifies my own impression that this didn't have the quality of the others. It was only Jay saying that he thought he saw Hoodie Guy loitering near the school gate that made him think it was one of his. I always disliked this picture so I had no qualms now about it being jet-washed off the wall sometime next week.

While I'm thinking about what Easy has said, a child calls out to him for help. He excuses himself and walks over to the boy who's engrossed in some model-making. I watched him engage with him in a totally relaxed manner until he's satisfied the problem has been resolved then he wanders back towards me.

"Those paintings have been drawn by someone with a lot of skill, but even though my past and present students are very capable, there's nothing in those pictures to indicate they were done by any of mine. I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"That's okay," I say, then I look him in his golden eyes again. "Can you tell me one thing though?"

"Sure, fire away."

"Easy? Why do the kids call you Easy?"

"That's 'easy'," he replies and laughs at his own joke. "My initials are E.C. I told the kids to call me that to start with but over time that morphed into Easy."

"So what's your real name then?"

"That's two questions; I only agreed to one."

"That's not fair," I grumble.

"I know," he says and smiles.

I put the file back in my bag and make an instant decision that I hope he'll respond favorably too.

"Could I stay until the end of the class? I'd love to talk to the children if that's okay by you."

"Sure," he replies and beckons me to follow him. He opens a tall cupboard and pulls out a thin coat to put over my clothes then takes my jacket and bag from me and places them behind his desk. "Off you go then. Have fun," he adds.

I wander around the room and talk to most of the children about their work, where they go to school, what art they do there, but most of all I listen to them talking effusively and without prompting about the man they know as 'Easy', and how this club is so important to them. Many of the kids are from families on very low incomes; I can tell this from their clothes, especially their shoes, but all of them are filled with optimism. For the older ones, the club has given them hope because they are learning skills they could use in the workplace, and this has given them a measure of confidence about their future.

I try to glean information from them about Easy, such as does he live locally or did he ever have any help like another adult around occasionally, but the children just answer my questions with either a blank look or a shrug. This man is a mystery, just like Hoodie Guy.

The time flies by and soon it's time to pack up. I help to clean up the paint pots and put everything away then say goodbye to the children when they're being collected by a parent or other known adult. When the last child has gone I collect my coat and bag from behind the desk and walk towards Easy who is folding up the last of the tables.

"Thank you; I really enjoyed myself," I say. "You have an amazing place here; I can't begin to tell you how impressed I am."

"I'm glad you had fun," he replies. "You're welcome to come back if you like."

"Could I?" I reply, trying not to sound _too_ desperate. "I've only just moved to Seattle and don't have much to do in the evenings. I'd be happy to help."

"Sure," he says. "I never miss a Monday or a Friday so just turn up when you can."

"I'd love to do both days but can only come on Monday's as I go home to Forks on Friday. Would that still be okay?"

"Very okay; I'll see you next week then and I hope you've found your mystery artist by then."

I make my way towards the door and turn to give him a wave goodbye. He's stopped what he's doing and is watching me leave and I immediately start hoping and praying that he's interested in me as a person.

"Bye then," I almost whisper and walk through the door before I start blushing.

As I wander slowly towards the car I'm willing him to follow me but he doesn't, so I sit in the car for a few minutes hoping he might be plucking up the courage to talk to me again. I also needed a few moments to try to get my head around what just happened in there before setting off for home.

If it wasn't for the golden eyes he could've been Hoodie Guy. I'd tried to sneakily look at him from the side to see whether he was wearing contacts, but I didn't want him to catch me staring at him as though he was a scientific specimen. His height was right, his body frame and hair colour _could_ be right, but there wasn't enough evidence there to convict if I'd been picking him out on an identity parade.

His voice was warm and deep but I didn't catch the hint of an accent I'd heard when he spoke to me in the store, but there was something else; something familiar about him that I couldn't put my finger on. I was sure I hadn't met him before as he had a face that once seen you would never forget, but I felt as though I knew him from somewhere but couldn't think where. As I start Freddie up and set the Satnav to home, I make the cautious calculation it's 50-50 Easy is the man I'm looking for, but how could I prove it?

As I pull away I think about what he said to me when he was looking through the pictures. He denied … no that word was wrong, he _said_ there was nothing to indicate that any of his past or present students were responsible, **_but he never said it wasn't him_** , and I stupidly didn't ask him the direct question. I feel like slamming the brakes on and returning, but I'd feel embarrassed going back now so I'd have to leave it until next week. Instead I drive away from the industrial estate hoping and praying something will happen before next Monday so I can solve the mystery without having to front him up without any evidence.

The journey home takes half the time it took to get there so I'm back in the apartment just before ten. I'm tired, but I know I won't be able to sleep without help so I open the emergency bottle of wine I bought a week ago and pour myself a mug-full. I'm hungry as well so I make myself some toast with peanut butter and sit on the sofa staring at the words on my window, which miraculously have survived the rain storm which hit Seattle after the mini-earthquake on Saturday night.

What was the message in the pictures? What was he trying to tell me? Why did I have to work it out for myself? I wrack my brain for the hundredth time as I still can't see a connection between any of the paintings, apart maybe from Eleanor Roosevelt's words about dreams and the girl in the hammock having a dream about winning a horse race.

I'd drunk about half the bottle before remembering that Freddie is parked along the street and I have to drive before eight in the morning. I panic then as I could still be over the limit tomorrow so I drink a large glass of water to try and dilute the alcohol then get ready for bed feeling slightly irresponsible. The wine does the trick though and I'm out like a light.

* * *

 **Tuesday 2nd May**

I get to work without getting arrested and park Freddie in the lot as usual. I can't help pausing to look at the swan again wondering whether there's a clue in this painting as well, but nothing jumps out at me so I sigh with frustration and head for the elevator.

The floor is deserted apart from Jim, so I make myself coffee and have half an hour of peace and quiet before I hear the voices of my colleagues as they spill out the elevator ready for another day at the coal face. Kirsty's voice rings out above all the others and I can tell she's animated about something so I stick my head around the door and ask her what she's fussing about.

"It's Sweepstake time, Bella. The Kentucky Derby's on Saturday. I'll be coming round for your five bucks later; winner takes all."

"Oh Jesus," I groan and head back to my desk. I loathe this sort of thing as I might as well flush the money down the toilet as I never win anything. At this moment in time I hate Kirsty, as I know I'll end up watching the race with Charlie and then be disappointed I haven't won anything. I decide then not to look at the name of the horse I've picked until I get to work on Monday morning.

Jay wanders in then and mumbles, "Good Morning," and slings his jacket on the chair.

"Are you okay?" I ask as he looks white-faced.

He shakes his head and turns to me and I can see one side of his face is swollen.

"Have you been in a fight," I ask incredulously as Jay definitely isn't the fighting type.

"Yes," he answers bitterly, "With the fucking dentist. The needle broke in my gum when he was anaesthetising my mouth. It took him over half an hour to extract every piece of it and then the bastard tried to charge me for a double-appointment because he said I'd moved. I told him to go fuck himself."

"Too right," I reply sympathetically as I have a fear of dentists myself. "I'll get you coffee, with a straw if you like?"

"Har har har," he says then winces again with the pain.

I make him some coffee and get two Tylenol from our resident pharmacist, Kirsty, and place them in front of him. He grunts a thank you and starts flicking through his emails.

"No more from Hoodie Guy again. Do you think he's stopped now because we're on to him?"

"I don't know; possibly I suppose," I answer hoping I was wrong.

"How did you get on at the art club last night?" Jay asks as he sips his coffee from one side of his mouth.

"Good, in fact it was amazing and inspirational. The guy who runs it is awesome."

"But he's not Hoodie Guy then?"

"I don't know. He was the right height and shape but his eyes were the wrong color, unless he was wearing contacts last night but I don't think he was."

"Maybe he was wearing contacts when you saw him at the pier?" Jay suggests.

I slap my forehead with my hand when Jay says that in a nonchalant way, and I can't believe how stupid I'd been not to even consider this as a solution. Maybe his strange eye color is a medical condition; something like when albino people have pink eyes, so it's possible he has to wear contacts when the sun is shining? This throws a whole new lifeline to me as I'd already reluctantly started to dismiss my rapidly burgeoning fantasy of Easy being Hoodie Guy as I couldn't get round the eye problem. Now the possibility he was the culprit was 75% in favor.

I send a text to Kate to let her know how I'd got on last night adding that I was looking forward to meeting up soon. I also sent a message to Mike as he'd texted me about meeting him in the next few days. Jessica had offered to take me to a music venue one night this week as well so my social life was improving rapidly.

Kirsty bursts in then demanding five bucks from me which I hand over reluctantly then pull a folded slip of paper out of a bag. I don't even bother checking what the horse's name is; I just shove the slip in the drawer where it'll stay until next Monday.

"Aren't you going to look?" Kirsty wails.

"Nope, because I know it's going to lose. I'm not a fan of horse racing anyway."

Kirsty shrugs her shoulders and wanders over to Jay who picks out his horse then immediately looks up the odds on the internet. It's not good news.

Kirsty is half-way out the door when she turns back and whispers furtively, "Have you heard the latest about the Mayor and his marital woes?"

"No," I reply excitedly as I love a bit of gossip. I notice Jay's eyebrows going skywards and he shakes his head as though he's mildly disgusted at us, but I know damn well he'll be listening avidly to what Kirsty has to say.

"Well ... he took his bit on the side to the revolving restaurant at the top of the Needle on Saturday night. They were up there when the earthquake hit which meant they weren't allowed to use the elevators to get down until the engineers gave them the all clear. On top of that, the power supply and the emergency back-up failed which meant the kitchens were out of action so they couldn't even have dinner while they waited, _plus_ the stairs were in darkness so the guests were trapped up there until the power was restored. When they got down at about one in the morning the TV stations were outside interviewing folks who'd been trapped and they spotted him with the girl trying to sneak away."

"Oh dear!" I comment dryly.

"That's not all," Kirsty continues with relish. "One of the secretaries upstairs is friends with his wife. Apparently she's been nagging him for years to take her for dinner up there but he never has, so he's doubly in the shit at home."

"Serves him right," I say as I imagine the Mayor ducking out the way of missiles being thrown at him as soon as he walked through the door.

"He's back in today but everyone's keeping well out the way," she chuckles as she heads for the door to extrapolate five dollars from the rest of the unsuspecting staff.

"Thanks for the warning," Jay comments as he's scanning the internet for any salacious gossip about the Mayor and his 'bit on the side', proving he'd enjoyed hearing about the Mayor and his troubles just as much as Kirsty and me.

"You're as bad as a girl," I accuse him as I see his eyes widen when he'd obviously found the right news story.

"Holy shit; Come and look at this," he says excitedly and beckons me over. I presume he's recognised the girl in question so I wander over to see what she looks like. Instead Jay is peering at a long-range shot of the Space Needle that had obviously been taken with a zoom lens from another tall building during the power outage, where you can clearly see that some of the restaurant guests are holding a sign up which says, 'Send Food!'

"What the…" I mumble then rush over to my desk and pick from my file the picture of the mural Hoodie Guy painted in the playground, which at first glance is almost an exact copy of what I'd just seen on Jay's computer. I fling the picture at Jay who holds it up to the screen to compare the images which are almost identical; the only difference being that the mural is obviously a painting not a photograph.

"Jesus!" Jay exclaims and scratches his head. "How the hell do we explain this? Is this guy a frigging psychic as well?"

"I don't know," I mumble as I walk back to my desk and sit down before my legs give way.

I'd already accepted that something very strange, unfathomable, unexplainable and any other adjective that basically implies 'weird', was happening here, but now I needed to get my head around whether this latest discovery could be the clue I'd been searching for, which could begin to point me in the direction of finding out what he's trying to tell me.

It was highly probable that the Needle had been affected by earthquakes before, and the 'Send Food' message posted on the restaurant windows was the long-standing joke which is made when folks get stuck up there, but it was too much of a coincidence it happened within three weeks of the mural being painted. Had he 'foreseen' this happening? There was only one way of finding out.

I flick through the other murals until I find another picture which I hoped might prove whether he had in fact predicted the future. I search for the phone number I needed on the internet then call it.

It takes me about five minutes to get through to the curator of the Frye Art Museum, who luckily is the guy Jay spoke to when he went to inspect their mural. I introduce myself and ask him the question.

"Was the gallery affected by the earthquake on Saturday night, Sir?"

"Only slightly, Miss Swan," he answers. "It took the staff most of Sunday to re-hang the pictures and we had minor damage to a statue that fell over, but apart from this small inconvenience there were no other problems worth worrying about."

I can see Jay is watching me intently while I'm talking to the curator as he's obviously picked up where I'm heading with my questions. I ask the next one.

"I don't suppose there's any chance you took photographs of the gallery before you straightened the pictures up?"

"Yes, we did, Miss Swan. The Seattle Times wanted a selection for a feature they were doing on the quake. Would you like me to send them over to you?"

"Please," I reply and give him my email address.

"Can I ask why you need them?" he asks. "Tremors are common occurrences in this part of the world as you know."

"I don't know for certain, Sir," I lie. "My boss asked me to call you."

"That's fine then. I'll send them over to you shortly. Goodbye."

My stomach is churning while I wait for the email which would confirm whether I'm dealing with something that is totally unexplainable. I can hardly sit still. My foot is tapping the side of the desk and my fingers are drumming the surface. I can tell Jay is intrigued, but he's nowhere near the level of excitement I'm in, but then he hadn't been in the presence of Easy yet.

"Are you trying to do an impression of Dave Grohl," he grumbles as my foot and finger tapping is obviously driving him crazy.

"Who?" I ask as I'd never heard of Dave Growl or whatever his surname is.

"The drummer of Nirv… Oh, never mind."

"Wasn't Nevermind the name of Nirvana's best album?" I reply innocently.

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation," he mutters just as my email beeps.

I feel sick with nerves when I'm opening the attachments from the gallery as fifty percent of me wants confirmation that the 'Send Food' mural is just a coincidence, which means I'm still looking for a plausible solution, but the other fifty percent is praying this will confirm that somehow he is able to predict the future, and even though this would be the height of weirdness, this is the message he's been telling me all along.

The first few photos are of the lobby area which hadn't been badly affected. The next two are long views of the main hall, and like the mural had predicted, many of the paintings are just slightly out of line. I flick through all the photos until I find the one which most closely resembles the mural and enlarge it so it fills the screen. By then Jay is standing behind me holding the print of the mural ready to compare and even he lets out a slight gasp when it first appears. Apart from the subjects of the pictures in the frames, the mural is almost exactly identical to the photograph on the screen.

"This is totally weird," he says as he stares at the picture.

"More than weird," I agree. "Do you think Mulder and Scully would be interested in taking this on?"

"Probably; this is right up their street," he replies then walks back to his desk, grabs his chair and wheels it over to mine.

"Right, Bella," he says in an official 'business-like' tone. Let's go through the other murals and see whether he's predicted anything else. If he has, I'm going straight to the Mayor."

"No you're not," I reply forcefully and without hesitation. "You, we, are not saying _anything_ about this to anyone until we find out who this guy is and why. There's obviously a reason why he's sending us messages through his murals, but not only that, if he'd wanted the Mayor to know what he could do, he would've been stalking _him,_ not a newly-appointed Urban Arts Consultant. Also, Jay, the Mayor is pretty pissed at the moment, so rushing up to his office to tell him firstly, that I was right and he was wrong about a gang being involved, and secondly, we suspect the artist is predicting the future by drawing murals all over the city, would probably not go down too well and I'd probably be sacked on the spot for being a psycho."

Jay looks disgruntled for a moment but even he accepts that today isn't the right day to be bothering the Mayor because of his home situation. He makes a harrumphing sound then starts going through the pictures one by one. He selects the mural of the burning café first and examines it closely looking for clues, while I click onto Google and type, 'Café Fires in Seattle'. Instantly a list appears going back years; the most recent incident sitting at the top of the page.

It refers to a local news report for the day I flew into SeaTac, which was on Saturday 22nd April. The final 45 minutes of my flight had been horrendous as we were sitting out over the sea waiting for a violent thunderstorm to abate before coming into land. I'd just endured a twelve hour transatlantic crossing and all I wanted to do was land and get home to Charlie. On top of that, I was terrified as the turbulence was quite scary and many of the passengers were distressed. In the end, the pilot had to chance landing on the tail-end of the storm as we were running out of fuel, so we had a very bumpy or what some masochistic idiots might call 'an exciting' landing.

As I read the first line of the news report on the café fire I hold my breath as the following words confirmed, without a shadow of a doubt, that somehow Hoodie Guy had predicted the fate of this restaurant.

 _'During the violent thunderstorm that raged over Seattle on Saturday evening, 'Beelzebub', a popular steak restaurant in the Queen Anne district, was hit by lightning and severely damaged. Diners were obliged to abandon their meals when the restaurant caught fire but fortunately no-one was injured. The owners of Beelzebub estimate they will re-open for business before the end of May.'_

The internet picture of the café was identical to the one on the mural, apart from the fact that the name of the café across the front of the building was not now obscured by smoke. Beelzebub is another name for the Devil and is, in my opinion, a great name for a restaurant that serves flame-grilled steaks. And then I remembered where I'd heard 'Beelzebub' before. It was when Jay and I were in Joe and Del's after he rescued me after seeing my face on the football mural. If either of us had picked up on the name of the restaurant when the waiter mentioned it, we could've investigated it and realised what was going on last Tuesday. I can't believe how dense we both were.

"I need a drink," Jay mutters, "and I don't mean coffee."

"This isn't normal," I mumble philosophically as the implications of what we were discovering were becoming too staggering to contemplate. The now-familiar prickly feeling was present on the back of my neck again and I shuddered as there's now no question that Jay and I between us had cracked the mystery of the subjects of his murals.

"I agree, it's extraordinary," Jay agrees as he reads the news report and picks up the significance of the name of the cafe, "but what are we going to do about it?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly. "I've got to think this through, but let's carry on with the other pictures and see what we find."

I put 'Submarine accidents' into Google but nothing recent comes up, but that's not surprising as I doubt the navy would declare if one of their nuclear submarines turned turtle. I try 'Shark attack' next and after a lot of digging I eventually find a story from a few days ago that reported on a diver being attacked by a shark off the coast of Oregon. The shark had become tangled in a fisherman's net and had attacked the diver who was trying to rescue it, possibly because it thought it was being attacked itself. The diver bit the shark's dorsal fin in self-defence, after which the shark swam away. I show the story to Jay who points out there are no coral reefs in this part of the Pacific.

I give him a filthy look for being so pedantic then leap to Hoodie Guy's defence.

"He probably made the mural more attractive and interesting for the visitors, Jay."

"Okay, point taken," he groans then hands me the picture of the girl dreaming about the horse race. "What do you think about this one then?"

"I don't know; it could be any horse race. Are there any female jockey's in the Kentucky Derby?"

"No idea," he says then launches himself across the room on his wheeled chair and has a look on the internet. I can see him scanning through the list of horses and jockeys then his eyes widen slightly, which I take as meaning there's at least one female jockey. He doesn't say anything to start with but sits back in his chair and stares at the screen.

"What is it?" I ask curiously.

"I know you said you didn't want to know the name of your horse, but could _I_ take a look at your ticket?"

"Sure," I reply and pull open the drawer where I've slung my sweepstake ticket. Jay gets up and wanders over to me and opens the piece of paper. As he reads the name he nods his head, meaning he'd already guessed what it says. There's no way now that I'm not going to find out which horse I've selected at random. I go to snatch it away from him but he pulls it out of reach.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he taunts.

"Just give me the fucking ticket, Jay," I hiss, not bothering I've dropped the f-bomb in the office, following which he straightens the slip out and places it in front of me.

I read it once then read it again, as my mind's eye recalls the picture of the girl in the hammock. The name of my horse is 'Always Dreaming' and I can't help letting out a little shriek.

Our guy may be psychic, but how the hell did he pull this one off?

* * *

 **Well, this is a bit strange and some might say 'far-fetched', that she pulled the right ticket out the bag. Hmmmm!**

 **So, they've realised that Hoodie Guy can somehow predict the future, but they still haven't worked out why he's doing this, especially as he's not seeking any sort of recognition for his skill, which means there must be another reason.**

 **Next time, Bella, with a bit of prompting from Jay, will start to think laterally (at last), and while she's doing that, Hoodie Guy will be up to his artistry tricks again and will be painting the mural which will answer every one of Bella's (and your) questions.**

 **Not long to wait,**

 **Joan xx**

 **(Oh yeah, then Edward takes over the story. "About effing time," I hear you all shrieking)!**


	13. Chapter 13

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

* * *

I stare at the horse's name in disbelief. Out of around twenty-five sweepstake choices in Kirsty's bag, I'd somehow managed to pull out the only one that had a direct reference to the mural, which meant that not only was Hoodie Guy a brilliant artist _and_ a psychic, he was also a frigging magician. I was still trying to digest another example of outrageous improbability when Jay comes out with another gem of information, which points to the fact that we've been walking around with our eyes closed for the past week.

"Not only is the horse's name relevant, Bella. Do you remember when we were on the street, wondering why the mural was painted where it was because there was nothing at all connected to horse racing around us?"

"Yes," I mumble, feeling reluctant for the moment to absorb anything else that would make my brain ache.

"Look at the address. It was painted on the wall of number 143 in that street. Saturday's Kentucky Derby is the 143rd running of that race. I should've spotted what he was trying to tell us."

"Yes, you should have," I sort of joke then stick my head in my hands.

"Are you okay?" Jay asks kindly.

"Yes … no….. I don't know," I almost wail. "This shit just isn't real, Jay. I should be feeling thrilled and excited and amazed by all this, but he still hasn't shown us _why_ he's doing what he's doing, and what his real message is."

"Is this all you're concerned about?" Jay asks in a slightly condescending manner this time.

"Yes! What else should I be thinking? Tell me, please!" I beg.

Jay pulls his chair over again and sits down next to me. He picks my camera up and flicks through the gallery until he finds the picture he's been looking for. It's the one of the brick wall opposite my window which bears the single word 'Believe!'

I fix my eyes on the word and it slowly dawns on me that he has been asking me to believe in _him;_ not just in the content of the murals. If he'd claimed to me or anyone else just in words that he could accurately predict the future, I or anybody else in their right mind would never have believed him without seeing hard evidence. He'd been giving us the hard evidence he was a bona fide psychic in the form of murals, without having to say anything to us, probably because he wanted to remain anonymous.

"He's telling us he knows what's going to happen in the future," I whisper. "And he wants us to believe in him unquestionably."

Jay nods and puts the camera back on the desk. "Yes, but that's not all," he says as he stands up. "Now, Bella, I'm going to make us both a very strong cup of coffee. While I'm gone, I want you to sit quietly and think this through because you haven't quite got there yet. Take the next step Bella; think laterally."

I stare at him open-mouthed as he says those words. He actually sounds like a parent who's calmly telling their child to reflect on their actions after being caught doing something stupid. But I take his advice without taking offence, put my elbows on the desk, my head in my hands and close my eyes so I can concentrate. Jay is way ahead of me on this so I have to focus on what I already know and hopefully the switch for the light bulb which is currently turned to 'off' in my head will suddenly turn to 'on'.

I'd already accepted that Hoodie Guy could somehow predict the future and for some reason he'd chosen to draw murals around the city to prove the point, so maybe Jay had worked out the real reason he's doing this, which had always been my number one dilemma. I suppose if he was just telling us he was a psychic, he could've written to a newspaper with his predictions. He also could've gone on the TV and made an absolute fortune. Why had he chosen this elaborate method to advertise his skill but had also chosen to remain anonymous as well? There was absolutely no reason for the subterfuge, as being psychic, if that is what he is, isn't a crime.

I try to put myself in his shoes, but come up with nothing else other than his desire to remain anonymous, or, more worryingly, that maybe he's warning us of something that's going to happen in the future which we haven't worked out yet. I go cold then thinking that maybe the upturned nuclear submarine will cause a radio-active disaster like Chernobyl or Three Mile Island, but somehow I don't think this is what Jay's prompting me to think laterally about. I squeeze my head between my hands but it doesn't help, as no amount of pressure is going to force the right answer out of me.

I smell the coffee before I see it as I still have my eyes tightly closed when Jay returns from the kitchen and puts the steaming mug in front of me. I'm still no nearer to being on either his or Hoodie Guy's wavelength though, but I sip my coffee hoping the caffeine will stimulate my gray cells, then take another look at the remaining pictures. Even though Jay and I haven't proved it yet, I'm sure these ones will also confirm that somehow he's predicting the future.

"Okay, I give in," I sigh and look pleadingly at Jay for the answer.

He sits down next to me again and gives me one of his intense stares as though he's trying to bore into my brain before giving me the benefit of his superior knowledge.

"You're a normal ordinary girl who's had a normal ordinary upbringing and a better than average education, right?"

"Right," I reply wondering where the heck this is leading.

"So tell me, Isabella Swan from Forks, Washington, how is it that your only concern right now is what message he's trying to send you, when any other right-minded person who's had a typically average upbringing and a better than average education would be focussing on _how the hell does some random guy have the proven ability to predict the future accurately?"_

I open my mouth to answer, but Jay is on a roll.

"That skill, on its own, is not in any shape or form 'normal'. It's an X Files, Twilight Zone, Professor Xavier scenario; in other words science _fiction_. No-one can predict the future really, can they? It's absolutely impossible. On top of this unexplainable anomaly, how the hell can this guy paint in the dark? How the hell does this guy paint so quickly? How the hell does this guy avoid being seen while he's doing it, especially when he's working above arm-level? How the hell did he know which parking space was yours? How the hell did he know what you looked like before you set foot in Seattle? His behavior is not in any way, shape or form, _normal."_

I shake my head as I can't answer any of those questions, but Jay is right; I've only been focussing on why he was doing this, not the how, which is unexplainable. I've obviously been in awe about how he's managed to do what he did, but I'd never really thought about _how_ in depth, apart from guessing he uses an abseiling rope when he's painting. Now 'predicting the future' has been added to the equation and I still hadn't considered there might be something unusual, possibly super-human even, about the person we're dealing with.

I look at my camera again which shows the word he somehow painted on my neighbor's wall. Of course Jay is still unaware he was in my apartment, but I'm not going to mention this now as the list of unexplainable weirdness is already long enough. Luckily he didn't spot the pictures on my camera of the message on the window when he was flicking through the gallery, and I do feel guilty about not being entirely up front about everything that's happened, but this will be for another day.

"So when he asked me to 'believe', it wasn't just that he wanted me to believe he could predict the future; he's also been showing me that somehow he has extraordinary, or some might say super-human powers? Is this what you're implying?"

"That's my guess."

"Do _you_ believe anyone can have super-human powers?"

"Not in the Marvel Comic or X-Men way; no I don't. However, I do believe we're dealing with someone with exceptional and very rare skills who is hiding his identity because of them."

"Wow!" I reply and briefly imagine Easy wearing a Spiderman outfit and can't help giggling. "You called him Spider-artist, remember?"

Jay laughs and picks up the print of the picture with the ornately drawn numbers then takes it and his chair back to his desk. "Just think about this guy while I'll try and work this one out, which should be easy now we know what we're looking for. I like puzzles," he adds.

Just then I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and see I've got a text from Mike offering to meet up after work. I arrange to join him outside the Aquarium at six as he wants to take a look at the mural, then we'll have dinner in one of the fish restaurants on the Pier.

I'm still thinking about Hoodie Guy having X-men type powers, which is ridiculous of course, when Jay yells, 'Got it!" He waves the picture of the numbers over his head so I shoot over to his desk. He'd weaved connecting circles around some of them making four pairs plus two single numbers. I notice then that he's matched the double numbers by their colors and patterns leaving the two singles which didn't match with anything.

"What are they?" I ask as I still can't see a logical pattern.

"It's the Mega-Millions winning lottery numbers from two weeks ago," he almost sobs. "Jesus! I should've looked more closely at this before. I could've been super-rich by now. Holy crap!"

"Never mind," I reply, trying to sound sympathetic but failing. "Get someone at Churchill Downs to put ten dollars on Always Dreaming for you. That might make up for it."

Jay snorts his disgust at my suggestion so I go back to my desk and pick up the picture of the animals in the psychiatrist's waiting room and hand it to him. "Work this one out if you can. I wouldn't know where to start."

My head is buzzing with everything that's happened in the last hour or so and I'm feeling slightly overcome by it all. The air conditioning keeps the office cool and fresh but I have a sudden urge to be out in the normal city air and go for a brisk walk to clear my head. I'll also use the opportunity to swing by the nearest deli and buy a sandwich or a panini for lunch, so I ask Jay whether he wants anything, which he does.

I grab my purse and head for the elevator and a few minutes later I'm out on the sidewalk. The sky is overcast and threatening rain but this doesn't put me off and I set off at a pace. I just intend to walk in a circle for about half an hour then pick up our lunches on the way back. I check my watch, zip up my jacket as the wind around the tall buildings is quite fierce, then head down Columbia Street towards the waterfront.

Despite what Jay said to me about focussing on Hoodie Guy's extraordinary, and some might say inexplicable abilities, I know in my gut there's still something more to this. I'm yet to discover the reason he's painting these murals and why he's been trying to connect with me rather than Jay. I have a feeling that what I've seen of his work so far is him trying to prove a point, but also he's preparing me for something bigger; possibly something he knows is going to happen in the future. Now that I've accepted he's a bona fide psychic, maybe he'll consider now I'm ready for what he really wants me to see, or even that he's ready to tell me himself.

By now I've reached the Alaskan Way which runs parallel to the waterfront and I can see the Aquarium from where I'm standing by the crossing. I decide to take a look at the mural again then return to the office via First Avenue or Union Street whichever is nearer. As I walk towards the building I notice the public are still admiring it. Some are even stopping to stare which pleases me greatly and I hope Hoodie Guy is aware his talent is still being appreciated.

I can see it's now being protected by Plexiglas panels, which is a shame in some respects as this has dulled the painting in places. The turtles aren't as shiny now and the shimmer on the fins of the angel fish isn't nearly as effective, but at least it's protected from the weather and I needn't be worried that Barry or any other 'vandal' would desecrate this beautiful piece of art.

I wander down the steps onto Waterfront Park where there's usually a good view of Elliott Bay, but now it's shrouded in a grey mist of fine rain which has just started to fall. I pull the hood of my jacket over my head and tuck most of my hair inside then stare out to sea, which for once doesn't look as inviting as usual as it's quite choppy out there. I imagine being on the Bainbridge Ferry right now and feel slightly nauseous just thinking about it as I'm not a good sailor.

I glance at my watch and I'm surprised to see it's already twenty minutes since I left the office which means I'd better get back, especially if I have to queue in the deli. I quickly make my way back to the road heading towards Union Street, which means walking under the Alaskan Way Viaduct. This is the exact spot where I'd seen him for the first time; standing in the shadow of the busy freeway that relentlessly thunders overhead 24/7.

As I reach the curb and look across to where I'm heading, I see him standing in the same place as before; his hood pulled over his head, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched inwards as usual, but this time his eyes are looking at the ground not at me. I stop breathing for a second as I'm not sure whether I'm looking at a mirage, but when he moves I absolutely know for sure he's real.

I can't cross the street because of the traffic, but I'm determined not to blink this time so keep my eyes fixed on him as he turns away and walks under the viaduct. As he passes one of the concrete pillars which support the freeway, he slaps his hand hard on the surface then disappears behind it. I hear the beeping sound which means it's safe for me to cross so I run as fast as I can until I'm where he was standing less than fifteen seconds ago, but he's already gone. I look frantically around the pillars and up and down the street, but, like before, he's disappeared into thin air.

I want to scream in frustration as I'd been so close to him this time. Why was he doing this to me? Why was he taunting me and driving me crazy? Why was he showing himself to me if he didn't want to communicate with me, unless …

I retrace my steps to where he'd been standing and then I understand why he slapped the pillar. There's a message for me written on the filthy concrete in his beautiful italics and after I'd read it and digested it, especially the last sentence, I take a picture of his words with the camera on my cell phone.

 ** _If you believe in me, the next step is to_** ** _trust_** ** _me. You will know why soon. Please don't try to find me; it would be too dangerous for both of us._**

'Dangerous?' And what did he mean by, 'for both of us'?

I've never read or felt anything sinister in his messages before and wonder whether this is just his way to warn me off discovering who he is, which makes me angry for a moment. He's stalking _me_ and he was the one who'd been in my room when I was sleeping. If there was any danger in us meeting, why the hell was he showing himself to me again?

I set off back to the office deep in thought as another thread to this mystery is playing on my mind, so much so that I forget to go to the deli. I'm stepping out of the elevator on the 25th floor before I remember about buying lunch but I need to offload onto Jay what I'm thinking about before I lose the thread.

Jay is typing an email on his computer when I walk back in. He looks up at me as I say in a questioning way,

"Why me?"

"What do you mean," Jay replies looking intrigued.

"What I mean is … why didn't he put _your_ face on the mural? Why didn't he follow _you_ home and send you messages? You'd been on his case for nearly a month before I showed up, so why did he wait for me to start work before trying to actively connect with this office? If he's trying to prove something, or trying to tell us something, why has he chosen me as his go-between, if that's what I am?"

"He's a guy and you're a girl, and a pretty one at that," Jay responds nonchalantly. "Maybe he found out that you'd been hired and did a search on you, then fell madly in love. There can't be that many Isabella Swan's on Facebook."

"Thanks for the compliment," I reply which follows a snort of derision, "but I'm not on Facebook remember and I've never ever allowed my picture to go up on social media because of Jake."

"What about your year book then? Is that online?"

"I don't know. Come to think of it, the picture of me on the mural is very like the one in my yearbook. My dad said I looked like a spaniel." I pull my hair down either side of my face to show Jay what I mean and he laughs.

"Maybe he has a fetish for girls who look like small cuddly dogs with long ears then. Now that _would_ be weird. By the way are you still feeling 'ruff'." Jay makes the appropriate doggy sound as he says the last word then sticks his tongue out and makes panting noises.

"Very funny," I reply and stick my tongue out back at him as I wander over to my desk.

I'm debating whether to tell Jay about the message on the pillar but decide not to for the moment. I'm going down to the Aquarium again tonight to meet Mike so I could say I saw him and it then. Right now I want to think through why he was warning me that finding him could be dangerous for both of us.

Jay offers to go out and get lunch and after we've eaten he tells me he can't work out the mural about the animals, but the football mural displayed the winning score of a match that was played the following weekend, so this solved that mystery.

We'd exhausted Hoodie Guy's evidence by then so spend the afternoon going through all the latest reports of graffiti in the city and plan a route to investigate some of the more interesting emails we'd seen over the last few days. I was looking forward to tomorrow as I enjoyed our trip out last Tuesday. Another day with Jay in the car would be good distraction from everything else that's happening.

At 5.30 I pack up and set off for the Aquarium. I arrive early expecting to have to hang about but Mike is already there. The weather has improved dramatically since the afternoon and the soaking wet waterfront is glistening in the early evening sunshine. I can now see across the bay to Bainbridge Island where a few hours ago it was shrouded in mist. While Mike is examining the mural, I can't help looking around me to see whether Hoodie Guy is watching like before, but there's no-one around who resembles him this time.

"What's up?" Mike asks, and I realise I haven't said a word to him about the mural the whole time.

"Nothing … well, that's not exactly true. I'll explain later," I blurt out. I'm debating internally whether to tell Mike what's going on but I'd assess how the evening goes first.

When Mike has seen enough and we've both declared it a stunning work of art, we wander down to the Crab Pot which is Mike's choice of restaurant. Once we're at our table and drinking beers, Mike tells me he'd heard about what happened with Jake from his parents, but he didn't know the whole story.

I give him the full unedited version starting from when I was hiding from him in the store, Jake knocking down the aisle of goods then chasing after me on his bike. He knew all this of course, but he hadn't heard how I'd escaped due to something or someone coming out of the forest at speed and somehow knocking him off the road in a split second. While I'm telling the story, Mike's jaw drops open and remains like that until I tell him that Jake claimed a bear had attacked him.

"That's bullshit," Mike snaps. "If a bear had come out of the woods, Bella, you'd have seen a bear, not something that 'could've been a bear'. Mike did the air quotes thing to emphasise his point.

"I agree," I reply. "The doctors at the hospital do too. They told the police he bore no signs of being attacked by an animal, big or small. He was badly roughed up though with a broken wrist and other injuries, but nothing which would back up his story."

"Why did he lie then?" Mike asked.

"We don't know," I reply even though I had a suspicion.

Mike thought it was strange for Jake not to be upfront about what happened, at least with the doctors who were treating him, as they normally couldn't give a damn how a patient got their injuries; that was the police's job. I told Mike I suspected he was too embarrassed to admit what had really happened, because why would anyone not report what or who had done this to them? Even if he didn't want to tell the police, surely he'd tell Billy what happened if he knew who or what it was that had knocked him into the forest.

"When are you going home again? Mike asks and he's definitely concerned for my safety.

"This weekend, but don't worry about me. The police assured Charlie that when Jake gets out of hospital he's got to go directly to court where there's a good chance he'll get put away. He's already had his probation restrictions extended because of what he did in your store, so even if he isn't incarcerated, he won't be allowed to leave the reservation unless he's supervised by one of the elders. He can't ride a bike either because of his broken wrist and smashed knee, so I'll be safe for a while."

Mike huffs at this, which I presume means he doesn't trust Jake to pay any attention to anyone who tries to restrict his movements. I know I'll have to be careful when I return to Forks, but if he tries to harass me again, one word from me and he'll definitely be back in jail. I have to take the risk as there's no way I'm not going home every weekend and at least he has no way of finding out what I do during the week or where I live. Even Sue and her family don't know where I work in Seattle and Mike's parents have been sworn to secrecy.

I tell Mike only the bare bones of the story behind the murals, in that I don't mention any of the psychic and weird aspects of what's happened. I do elaborate about the art club I'd visited though and gush quite embarrassingly about Easy and his relaxed method of teaching the children. Mike is genuinely interested and I can tell he's worked out that Easy has made a serious impression on me, and it has nothing to do with his club.

We have a nice, relaxed meal and we talk about old times at High School. Mike tells me he's single at the moment but not looking for love. He plans to give up his job in two years' time and travel around Europe and South America so doesn't want to be tied down at the moment. He even asks me whether I'd consider being his travel companion which surprises me. I said I'll let him know this time next year and he promises to hold me to this.

As we leave the restaurant Mike offers to walk me home. My apartment is only slightly out of his way he says and also he's following his mother's orders to make sure I get home okay. Seattle seems to be a very safe city for a girl to walk alone at night compared to some places I've stayed in, but it's late and I'm grateful for the company as we wander through the busy area around the market.

As we turn into my street I hear my name being shouted from behind me. I spin around and see Jessica struggling up the hill. She has a guitar slung across her back, another large instrument case in one hand and two bags of shopping in another. Then I notice yet another bag which probably contains her college books slung over her shoulder.

"Yeah yeah, before you say it, my middle names are Sea and Biscuit," she jokes.

"That's a racehorse," Mike replies trying to stifle a laugh.

"Are you implying I'm some sort of mule or a donkey, or a pack horse of some description?"

"Absolutely not," Mike says as he takes the shopping bags out of her hands. "Your beautiful mane tells me you're a thoroughbred through and through."

Jessica looks at him quizzically then at me. "Are you happy that your boyfriend just said I have beautiful hair?"

It was my turn to laugh then. "He's not my boyfriend, Jess; we went to High School together. So, Jessica, may I introduce you to Mike. Mike, may I introduce you to Jessica who lives across the hall from me."

They both say 'Hi' at the same time then Mike insists on carrying Jessica's bags up to her apartment. After we've climbed the stairs I say goodnight to both of them and watch as they head down the hall after Jess retrieves her key from under my doormat.

I have a quick shower then send dad a text to say I've had a nice evening out with Mike then go to bed. I lie awake for a while thinking about Hoodie Guy's last message and the warning that it would be dangerous for both of us if I tried to find out who he was. I still can't get my head around this, as he's the one who's been following me. If he doesn't want me to find out who he is, then he should just stay in the shadows.

* * *

 **Wednesday 3** **rd** **May**

I wake up with my alarm ringing in my ear, but instead of being enthusiastic about the day ahead, like I've been since the second morning of my new job, I feel mentally exhausted, which is probably fifty percent due to the alcohol I drunk last night and fifty percent because of what I'm trying and failing to make sense of. I almost fall asleep again but luckily I'm re-awakened by a loud bang which sounds like Jessica's door slamming. I roll out of bed then wander over to the window to let the sunshine in, at the same time being somewhat intrigued why Jess is leaving for college so early. As I pull the drapes back I'm just in time to spot my declared celibate friend, Mike; him of the 'not bothering with girlfriends until I'm thirty, thing'; doing the walk of shame away from my building. Pity the window is closed; I would've whistled him. After I've got over the shock of discovering that Mike has obviously enjoyed a one-night-stand with Jessica, I grumble philosophically, "Some people have all the luck!"

There's an email from the Mayor's secretary waiting for me at work asking for an update on progress for her boss. Specifically he wants to know why we haven't traced who painted the Aquarium mural yet. I email back saying the lead we'd been given had turned out to be fruitless but we were still looking for the 'gang' using every available means at our disposal. I copy Jim and Jay into the email and wait for a response which I'm sure will come fairly quickly.

Jay and I head out to check on some of the new graffiti which has appeared during the past week. This time there are some interesting attempts at social messages about corporate greed and political corruption, plus some poignant ones aimed at the plight of refugees. Several have the same 'tag', meaning one artist is responsible, but definitely none of these are Hoodie Guy's as they've been spray-painted using stencils. Sadly quite a few would have to be removed as they are personal, naming companies or politicians, but the majority are general comments on society and therefore, in my opinion, have merit.

I'm getting to know Jay really well by now and hope I've made a friend for life. We have fun while we're out and I appreciate how lucky I am to have a compatible colleague. I don't fancy him though; he's more like brother material than boyfriend material. Kirsty said in the car on the way to Forks that I'd brought him out of his shell and he wasn't nearly as miserable now which was nice to hear. I've never seen that side of him so can't compare the new Jay with the old one so have to take her word for it.

We have lunch at Joe and Del's again which is just as busy as before. We overhear one of the waiting staff telling another customer they've picked up extra business due to the closure of Beelzebub's which is just around the corner. Before going back to the car, Jay and I wander round there to see the damaged restaurant which is full of workmen installing a new kitchen. The façade is just the same as the painting, even down to the now slightly blackened blue gingham drapes which are still hanging in the windows.

We set off for the next site and we're almost there when Jay's phone beeps. He reads the message, lets out a loud sigh then hits the call button.

"What's up," I ask him but the call is picked up straight away before he has time to answer me, so I listen to Jay's one-sided conversation with whoever is on the other end.

"Okay, we'll go there now….

Yeah yeah, don't worry, we'll deal with it…..

Fine … Send me the address of the building," then he disconnects.

"What's happened?" I ask as Jay actually sounds irritated.

"Pull over when you can," Jay replies angrily so I dive down the first side street and park up.

"That was Jim. Apparently our psychic friend's been busy again. He's in big trouble this time though as he's desecrated one of the University's buildings and they're furious."

"Shit!" I snap, as the last thing I want is for Hoodie Guy to become Public Enemy Number One. I'm just hoping Jim is mistaken and whatever's been painted isn't his, but I'm guessing if it's a mural that's appeared overnight, the chances that it isn't his are probably slim.

Jay's cell beeps again with the address but no photograph so once he's entered it onto the Satnav we set off. Jay offers to drive because he says I look wound-up but I insist I'm okay. Just gripping the steering wheel helps me stay in control but my emotions are torn between curiosity because of what he's painted this time and anger that he's been stupid enough to choose another public building, unless of course the choice of the building is relevant.

It takes us over half an hour to get to the University campus because of heavy traffic and then another ten minutes to find a parking space. In the end we have to park quite a way from the building and walk the rest of the way. By the time Johnson Hall comes into view my stomach is in knots and I feel physically sick with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Also, I'm frantically looking around me to see whether we're being watched, but even though there are students in hoodies everywhere, there's no-one resembling our Hoodie Guy anywhere near.

As we approach the building I see what I think is the complete mural, but it's tiny compared to his other ones and from a distance it doesn't look particularly attractive. And then I see another mural, then another, then the final one, unless of course he's carried on around the corner of the building.

As we take in the whole wall and read what is in effect a time-lined story board, I can feel the color draining from my face and I grab hold of Jay's arm for support. I hear him whisper, "Oh My Holy God," as the implications of what's in front of us slowly sink in.

If this is another prediction and Hoodie Guy is accurate again, in less than a weeks' time the Seattle we'd just driven through would be totally unrecognisable; in fact the city would have been reduced to no more than a pile of rubble caused by a massive earthquake. Even more terrifying though, any buildings that survived the initial disaster would then be completely overwhelmed by a terrifying wall of water.

Now I understood why he had to convince us that he was a psychic _before_ he told us what was going to happen. But what was even more horrifying, he had in effect passed the dreadful baton of responsibility for his prediction onto me and Jay, and I honestly had no idea what we were going to do about it.

* * *

 **So, he knows Seattle is going to be hit by a huge earthquake and tsunami soon and this has been his way of warning the city. A lot of you guessed it would be a natural disaster and now we realise why the 'artist' didn't just contact the Mayor or the Press anonymously, saying "This is what's going to happen on ..." as nobody would have believed him.**

 **I've had lots of guesses about alien invasions, zombies, plagues etc., which would admittedly have been a lot more fun, but I wanted to write about something which could genuinely happen to this lovely part of the world. (Sorry Pacific NW readers). I was lucky enough to visit Seattle and Vancouver in 2016 but was unaware of the very dangerous fault line out at sea until I read about the Cascadia Subduction Zone after I got back. I only knew of the more famous San Andreas fault, which is scary enough.**

 **For your information,** **I've copied the following paragraphs from Wikipedia, but there's lots more on the internet about the fault lines around the Pacific Rim, but this extract is specifically about the Cascadia Subduction Zone fault which threatens the NW states of the USA and Canada.**

* * *

 _In 2009, geologists predicted a 10% to 14% probability that the Cascadia Subduction Zone off the coast of Seattle will produce an event of magnitude 9.0 or higher in the next 50 years. In 2010, studies suggested that the risk could be as high as 37% for earthquakes of magnitude 8.0 or higher._

 _Geologists and civil engineers have broadly determined that the Pacific Northwest region is not well prepared for such a colossal earthquake. The earthquake is expected to be similar to the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, because the rupture is expected to be as long as the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami._

 _The resulting tsunami might reach heights of approximately 30 meters (100 feet). FEMA estimates some 13,000 fatalities from such an event, with another 27,000 injured. It predicts that a million people will be displaced, with yet another 2.5 million requiring food and water. An estimated 1/3 of public safety workers will not respond to the disaster due to a collapse in infrastructure and a desire to ensure the safety of themselves and their loved ones._

 _Other analyses predict that even a magnitude 6.7 earthquake in Seattle would result in 7,700 dead and injured, $33 billion in damages, 39,000 buildings largely or totally destroyed, and 130 simultaneous fires._

* * *

 **So, I'm leaving Bella's story now as Edward is taking over, (hooray I hear you shouting), but we're jumping back to just before he starts painting the murals as I want you to know what was going through his head while he was doing it. Also why he ends up 'stalking' Bella, why his hair is long, why he has an accent, what happened to Jake, etc.**

 **I won't just be re-telling the first thirteen chapters , even though there's obviously some cross-overs. I'm hoping you'll get more out of the story this way and we'll be back to this point again by chapter 19. During Edward's story, we'll be meeting the rest of his family and finding out his history, which you may find quite surprising.**

 **Thanks for sticking with the story so far; I hope you've enjoyed the build-up. Now we're heading for the fall-out. (Bites fist)!**

 **Joan xx**

 **PS: To my guest reviewer who was lucky enough to see the Foo Fighters; I had tickets to see them in London in 2015, then Dave Grohl broke his leg so the concert was cancelled. This old rocker was VERY disappointed!**


	14. Chapter 14

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

* * *

 **Edward's Story**

 **Early April 2017**

I always knew when Alice was attempting to keep something from me. Her primary method of obstruction was to disappear to Alaska to stay with our cousins, or visit New York to stay with Garrett and his family. If she couldn't avoid being around me she'd mask her thoughts by reciting the words of the latest Sci-Fi novel she'd been reading and memorising word for word, or concentrating on learning a new language. This time her internal thoughts were in 'Klingon', which is completely alien (pun intended) to me, which meant that so far she had succeeded in concealing what was going on in her overloaded brain.

Alice is a Trekkie and has been ever since the first episode was aired on TV back in September 1966. I'd given her a copy of the Klingon Dictionary as a Christmas present in 2015 so she could prepare for the Star Trek exhibition which was due to open at the Museum of Pop Culture in 2016. Now she was using the language to mask her thoughts, which was not what we agreed to when I first discovered what she'd been hiding from me.

I hadn't had a chance to talk to her over the last few days, which was when I'd begun to suspect she'd learned something new connected to our problem. She'd avoided me by either being out on one of the boats with Carlisle, or had been with the others in the house, safe in the knowledge that she knew I wouldn't talk in front of them. At night she would disappear in the Porsche, sometimes taking her portable astronomical telescope with her so she could look at the stars from a dark spot in the forest. I was determined to get the truth out of her today though as I was feeling agitated. Tonight would be an ideal night for painting; in other words it wouldn't be raining and there'd be hardly any moonlight, but I didn't want to go out feeling like I did now.

I knew she wasn't far away as I could pick up a crazy word now and again amongst all the other mental ramblings of my family. Carlisle was currently on the phone talking to someone about a replacement sail for one of the boats. Emmett was thinking about sex, as usual. Rosalie was thinking about herself, as usual. Esme was gardening, as usual, but worrying about me at the same time. She knew I had something on my mind but she also respected my privacy, knowing I'd confide in her when the time was right.

As I wandered through the house still looking for Alice, I recalled the day when I'd first found out about the horror to come through inadvertently tapping into Alice's unguarded thoughts. After I confronted her, she assured me that what she'd foreseen wasn't going to happen tomorrow, or next week, or next month, so at least I had some time to come to terms with the enormity of the situation and then to decide what to do about it, if anything. I didn't need reminding what the fall-out would be if I took any action which could risk disclosing to the authorities we were something other than normal humans, but I knew I'd never be able to live with my conscience if I didn't do anything to warn the city of its imminent demise.

As I reflected on what I'd achieved so far, not for the first time did I consider whether doing what I was doing was worth the serious implications for both of us if we were found out, as even now it wasn't too late to walk away and let Mother Nature do her thing unimpeded.

Since that freezing night way back in October when I'd swerved the boat to avoid a vandalised buoy covered in graffiti, which was what had given me the idea to paint the murals in the first place, Alice was still holding to our agreement to not say anything to the family straight away about what was going to happen to our home and everything around it. Back then I'd asked her to give me some time to see whether I could think of some way to anonymously warn the city and she was happy to hold fire, because the family would be able to leave the city long before it happened so would never be in any sort of danger.

When I eventually got the plan together in my head, I had to think about the implications for my life and Alice's if it became widely known that someone in the city could accurately predict the future and was using that skill for the benefit of the community. I'd already accepted I'd be risking the wrath of our self-appointed royal family in Italy and at the time I honestly didn't care what they'd do to me if they found out. My life wasn't important in the big scheme of things; there were others though whose lives _were_ important and I'd be damned for certain if I let anything happen to them. But I needed Alice to throw her hat in the ring with mine, which meant she'd be taking the same risks as me and would be subject to the same penalties if we were found out. The Volturi knew all about Alice's abilities and that she was currently living in Seattle with the Cullen's, but without her foresight and total cooperation my plan would be dead in the water before it started.

It had taken me until after Christmas to convince Alice that my plan might work and it was only in the last few weeks she'd begun to feed me with the knowledge I needed to warn the city. When I'd first broached the idea of drawing murals predicting the future, she'd replied with an emphatic 'no', as she said it was too risky for herself and the family. "Vampires aren't allowed to use their abilities to interfere with the human world," she reminded me, "or to draw attention to themselves in any way. If they did, the penalties were usually imprisonment or worse." She'd emphatically stuck to this decision for about ten weeks, and even though I was desperate for her to change her mind, I didn't put any pressure on her as I couldn't force her to put her foot over the line as far as the Volturi were concerned. But something happened to change her mind. When I asked her what had convinced her to take the risk, she refused to say and I didn't push it as it wasn't really important in the big scheme of things. I was just grateful to have her assistance and her trust.

At the beginning of February she gave me a lengthy list of newsworthy events which were due to happen in the next couple of months. Initially I was horrified that Alice had to live with the knowledge that tragedies, such as fatal accidents or murders, were going to happen, but she said she was able to tune out all but the most sensational events which made her life more bearable. She did admit there had been a few occasions over the years where she had prevented a disaster happening but she wouldn't elaborate further when I pressed her.

I started to put my plan of action together. First of all I sifted out events which had anything to do with accidents or loss of life, as the artist (me) could place themselves at risk of being accused by the police or media of actually enabling in some way for the incident to happen to fit the prediction. After dumping these and trying to forget them, I chose to paint only the events which were 'random', like a café being struck by lightning, the mini-earthquake causing problems in the city, the winner of sports games, the Kentucky Derby and the lottery numbers, which were obvious choices.

When I'd decided on the future events I was going to cover, I then had to think about how to draw them and where. For example, if I'd painted the café with the Beelzebub name clearly visible, this would have drawn too much attention to the café itself. What I was aiming for was a low-level realisation that my predictions were accurate, and then I would hit whoever had noticed them with the prophecy which was the most important. Alice had told me there was a team of cleaners that went around the city removing graffiti from walls or buildings, so there must be someone in the municipal offices who was coordinating the work force and who would hopefully have the brain-power to pick up the relevance behind my work and inform someone higher up.

As I was wandered into the garden still searching for Alice, I recalled my first foray out into the dark. I went a bit OTT and dressed from head to toe in plain black clothing, including an over-sized hoodie, then covered my face with charcoal dust. All the materials I needed for the painting were stuffed into a large, black canvas bag which I slung over my shoulders. This was just a trial run to see whether I'd be spotted doing the dastardly deed in some of the more public places I'd chosen. If I was noticed, I'd have to instantly re-think my masterplan as time was beginning to run out. What I was planning to paint wasn't a prediction; it was just a saying which meant a lot to me and my family and I hoped whoever saw it would appreciate the sentiment.

I borrowed one of Carlisle's less valuable motorboats and made my way slowly across Elliott Bay towards the small but exclusive marina adjacent to Pike Place Market. I tied up alongside a smart ocean-going gin palace then made my way to the boathouse which was in total darkness by now, except for some low-level lighting over the main door. It was just gone one o'clock in the morning and at least one of the bars on the Pier behind me was still open as I could hear music and laughter quite clearly, but I had to take the chance that no-one would be looking in my direction for the next hour or so or I'd have to abandon the painting and escape.

I took a piece of chalk from my pocket and drew an outline of the words across the long side of the building and within the limit of the reach of my arms. The saying was one I was familiar with, as many years ago Esme had used her impressive needlework skills to create a beautiful picture out of Eleanor Roosevelt's words, wrapping each letter in intricate flowery vines and surrounding the text with birds and butterflies. The picture hung at the top of the staircase leading up to our rooms and had followed us from house to house whenever we were obliged to move on. I asked her once why she liked that particular saying and she replied wistfully that she missed being able to dream. Daydreams didn't have the same surreal quality to them she explained. I was tempted to suggest she smoked a bit of weed before resting which might do the trick, but resisted as she got mad when she caught Alice and I pretending to be human for once.

It didn't take me long to finish the text as I worked at a rapid pace. I sped along the words using each color only once as the patterns on the letters were crystal clear in my mind's eye. I shot back from one end to the other until I was satisfied with the result then wrapped up all my paints and brushes, tucked them into my bag and crept back to the boat. I guess it was roughly two in the morning by then but it was Saturday night and the city was still very much alive.

Alice was waiting for me when I returned. I could see her sitting cross-legged on the jetty as I turned into the inlet and I could tell she was anxious to know whether I'd succeeded. I gave her the thumbs up as I manoeuvred the boat into position next to Carlisle's favourite speedboat; the one I wouldn't dare take out without his permission, then jumped out onto the jetty.

"Were you spotted?" she asked with a grin on her face. I could tell she was laughing because of what I looked like.

"Nah!" I reassured her nonchalantly then sat down next to her and watched the light from the thin crescent moon dance across the water for a while.

I wasn't anxious to go back to the house just yet. Before going in I'd have to get the charcoal off my face and hands as Carlisle or Esme would wonder why the heck I was dressed like a cat burglar if they saw me, which wasn't likely I know as they'd probably be in their room. I rummaged in my bag looking for a cloth but Alice had pre-empted my problem and produced a pack of make-up remover wipes from her jacket pocket.

"Thanks," I said and gave her a hug. "Can I keep these for next time?"

"Sure," she agreed then proceeded to clean my face for me, which was handy as I didn't have a mirror.

When my skin was polished and no doubt gleaming, I lay flat on the jetty and looked up at the stars for a while. Alice did the same and we talked about our next step. I told her I'd do the Kentucky Derby mural next, then the lottery numbers, then the shark.

"No," she said quite forcefully. "Don't do the shark yet. I'll tell you when and where you can do that one."

"Why not," I asked as I was quite surprised at her insistence.

"I don't know," she replied quietly, "but can you just trust me on this. There's something else going on that I can't read clearly at the moment, but I know it's important."

I said okay as I could do any of the others next, but I was curious about what was so important about delaying the one about the shark. Admittedly this was the one I was really looking forward to doing the most, but as I was planning to paint it on a public building in a public area, purely for vanity reasons because I wanted a lot of folks to see it, I knew I'd need to be extra quick and extra careful. Maybe Alice had pictured me being seen doing it, or caught even, but didn't want to say until she was absolutely certain. Whatever, I had to trust her instincts so I didn't argue.

I had to leave painting for a few nights as Seattle was stuck under a rain cloud which didn't want to move. It was only the beginning of April so poor weather was to be expected. I wanted to get some more in before the moon became full so kept my fingers crossed it would clear up sufficiently. Luckily after the rain had cleared I had two dry but still cloudy nights in a row and finished the Kentucky Derby and the lottery numbers without any problems. I thought I was quite clever with the Derby one as I'd found a wall with the number 143 on which corresponded with the race. I painted my perfect girl in the hammock as well. She was a slight variation of the same girl I'd been painting ever since I picked up a brush and produced my first proper canvas when I was about thirteen. Every opportunity I had to paint her I did. It was like I was getting to know her soul a little bit more each time her beautiful face graced my paintings.

I purposely painted the lottery numbers in one of the poorer areas of the city. I figured if anyone picked up the connection, at least it would be someone who needed the money. This time I was spotted by a guy who just appeared out of nowhere and almost made me jump out my skin as I didn't hear him approaching, which is unusual for me as my hearing is off the scale. He was obviously as high as a kite as he staggered towards me.

"Yo," he slurred. "Whad'ya drawin' dude?"

"Next week's winning lottery numbers," I answered dryly and carried on as though he wasn't there.

"Cool," he replied and carried on walking. I suppose I'll never know whether he remembered our conversation. I would think it highly unlikely the state he was in.

I had to wait a full week after this and painted the earthquake ones on consecutive nights. Alice had 'shown' me a newspaper montage of several pictures taken after the April quake showing its effects, and I'd chosen these two as they were quite humorous. Painting in the kids playground near the Space Needle was awkward though as I didn't realise it was a meeting place for junkies, crack-heads, whatever you want to call them. There were a couple of guys sleeping rough on the benches as well but they were completely out of their heads with alcohol. When the park was as deserted as it was ever going to be, I got going and just managed to finish before it started getting light and the street cleaners appeared.

The one near the Frye Art Museum was also quite difficult as the wall I'd originally chosen to work on was brightly illuminated by a nearby street lamp which I hadn't noticed when I carried out my reconnaissance. I had to find another wall which was suitable and the one I settled on wasn't in such a good position, but at least it wasn't overlooked or illuminated. I'd like to have spent more time on this one, but having to find a new 'canvas' had eaten into the night so I wasn't able to precisely copy the pictures in the gallery. It still turned out well though and I hoped this mural and the Space Needle landscape would be the ones which would trigger whoever was looking at them to realise that the person who painted them somehow knew what was going to happen in the future.

A couple of days later, Alice burst into my room.

"Your paintings have been spotted," she declared excitedly then showed me what she was 'seeing' in her mind's eye. She'd been into the city to have a look at my latest efforts and had observed a guy taking photographs of the one by the art museum and writing something down in a book. Someone from the museum had come out to talk to him and Alice said she overheard him saying he was from the municipal offices.

I decided then to hang around the ones I'd already done to see whether the new paintings were ruffling the feathers of anyone in authority, which is what I wanted to happen. The next morning I went from site to site until I spotted the guy I'd seen in Alice's mind examining the one of the Kentucky Derby. I tried to get close to him so I could tap in to what he was thinking, but could only pick up the occasional word or phrase. What I did pick up though was that he was definitely not appreciative of my work which surprised me.

I watched him for a couple of minutes and was about to walk away when he turned on his heel without warning and I know he spotted me. I looked down at the sidewalk so he couldn't see my face but instantly I picked up from his thoughts that he suspected I was the culprit. I walked away in a quick but 'normal for a human' pace but instantly realised he was running after me. This was not good news and I knew I had to lose him. I turned down the first available street and ran faster than Usain Bolt to the next corner where I spotted an iron fire escape on the side of one of the buildings. I leapt about twenty feet in the air and landed on the first platform then raced to the top of the building where I had a good view of the street below.

About ten seconds later, the guy appeared around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. I watched as he turned around in circles looking for me then I heard him curse. He stayed put for a while, probably hoping I'd creep out from my hiding place, then he shrugged his shoulders and walked back the way he came.

I stayed on top of the building for a few more minutes before scrambling down the fire escape and dropping to the ground. As I jogged away from the scene I appreciated I'd had a narrow escape, but to be honest I didn't mind that he'd seen me; I was just anxious he wouldn't be able to recognise me in the future.

This happened yesterday. Now there's definitely something cooking with Alice. I'm about half-way through the list of murals I want to paint, but I'm determined not to do any more until I know what she's hiding from me.

I complete the search of the garden without any luck so I reckon she must be in one of the boathouses, or even hiding on one of the yachts moored in our private inlet, so I set off across the lawn which slopes down to the water. As I near the shoreline I pick up her thoughts and note she's reverted to thinking in English again, so I presume from this she's either given up trying to block me or now she's ready to tell me what's on her mind.

I find her in one of the smaller boathouses. Carlisle has several of these dotted around our property and this one has a particularly nice view of the bay. I walk up to her without saying anything and sit next to her on a wooden bench which takes up the whole width of the stoop.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I ask after a few minutes of silence. She's still trying to block me but now she's thinking about random news events mainly to do with fashion.

"Yes and no," she replies in a 'quiet for Alice' voice and then she shakes her head as though she's despairing over something.

"You promised not to keep anything from me, remember?" I say, trying to stay calm as I don't want to wind her up.

She nods vigorously as though she's trying to reassure me, then she grabs hold of my hands which takes me by surprise as it's not the sort of thing Alice would do unless she's really worried about something. She looks me straight in the eyes and I can tell she's struggling so I stay silent until she's ready to talk.

"I know I made that promise and I'll keep it," she says eventually then hesitates again before saying, "but there's a complication."

"What sort of complication," I spit as I'm expecting her to say she's got her prediction or her dates wrong.

"It's nothing to do with what's going to happen in May, Edward. What I'm seeing is dangerous for _you_ ," and I can hear a tremor in her voice.

"What do you mean?" I ask and instantly I feel nervous. "Am I not going to survive this?"

I suddenly feel nauseous and this hasn't happened to me in years. I'd initially boasted to myself that I didn't care about my life, but when she inferred I may be in danger it hadn't taken me long to realise that I really wasn't ready to die just yet, not without a fight anyway. Alice was still gripping my hands even tighter now as if she was clinging on to me to stop me from drowning.

"Yes, you'll survive," Alice insists, "But only if you make the right choices. You're going to be torn between our pledge to Carlisle and Esme, our family's future and your …"

"My what?" I hiss.

"Your future happiness, Edward."

"My _happiness_!" I exclaim. "What's my happiness got to do with this, unless … "

I immediately think about the past and present children in the club, as they'd been solely responsible for pulling me out of another period of melancholy I'd been wallowing in when I moved to Seattle. Maybe Alice was panicking that I'd use my special abilities to save each and every one of them when it came to it, especially if the authorities didn't work out what was going to happen. These kids were my life now, and they were my main reason for defying the rules regarding keeping our secret from the general population and consequently risking my own life.

"It's the kids, isn't it," I hiss. "I'm not abandoning them, Alice. I don't care what happens to me."

"It's not the kids, Edward," she says quietly. "It's something much deeper."

"Tell me then," I say, trying to stay calm even though I'm frantic by now. "You and I are not leaving this boathouse until I know."

Alice takes a few more unnecessary breaths as she squeezes my hands then looks into my eyes again. Our kind cannot cry, but I can clearly see pain in her expression as she says …..

"The complication is …."

"Yes, go on …."

"A girl, Edward. No ... that's wrong; it's _the_ girl, Edward. The one you've been waiting for."

As she says these words, an image of the girl appears in her head and when I see her face and then the rest of her I instantly understand.

* * *

After Alice tells me everything she knows which is absolutely certain, she leaves me alone to gather my thoughts. She told me that she'd foreseen several fleeting scenarios about a girl who would turn my life upside down, but refused to enlighten me further as the future she'd seen could be compromised by the choices I made and she didn't want to influence me in any way.

She said the unnamed girl wasn't in Seattle yet, but would be arriving in the city very soon to work with the guy I'd seen today. Most importantly, this girl would play a fundamental part in my plan to convince the authorities that disaster was just around the corner, but other factors would come into play during this time which would complicate matters. I knew from experience not to question Alice any further on this as I could tell by reading her mind that she was being totally honest with me this time.

The image of the girl was burning a hole in my mind, so much so that I felt like weeping from the pain. She was petite, delicate and very beautiful, and I already knew her face well as I'd painted her likeness a thousand times over the years, including on the Kentucky Derby mural, even though her features weren't precisely the same. Ever since the first time I'd picked up a brush all those years ago, she had been my epitome of female perfection.

My imaginary perfect girl always had long, curly-brown hair flowing down her back, like this girl. She always had wide brown eyes with irises flecked with gold, framed by long, silky black lashes, and her skin would always be pale and flawless and her mouth would be soft and sensuous, just like this girl. My girl hadn't changed over the centuries and here she was, living and breathing in 21st century Seattle. My only problem was that this girl is one hundred percent human, and therefore totally incompatible with me.

Alice had foreseen that I would fall in love with a human sometime this century but wouldn't or couldn't tell me when. I'd dismissed her prediction as I didn't find humans attractive, unlike Emmett, who, until he met Rosalie, screwed anyone with or without a pulse. I'd had 'love affairs' before but had never found anyone who I could commit to forever. I'd had relationships which had lasted longer than a human marriage, but I'd never been with anyone who I could live with for eternity. I'd presumed soul mates were the stuff of fiction until I met Carlisle and Esme. Then Emmett met Rosalie and I finally accepted that something fundamental was missing from my life. Whether this girl is actually my soul mate remains to be seen.

If she's as beautiful as Alice's image of her then I was already seriously attracted to her, but as The Temptations say in their song, 'Beauty's Only Skin-Deep'. What's going on inside her head and her heart is far more important to me than her outside appearance; even though her face has haunted my thoughts for centuries.

I sit on the stoop until night falls and debate whether or not to paint tonight. The weather isn't ideal in that I can feel rain in the air. Also the moon is almost half-full and high up in the sky but mostly it's hiding behind thick, grey clouds, until it creeps out for a few minutes to bathe the sea in soft dappled light until it disappears again.

At just after one in the morning I decide to chance it and to attempt the football mural which I know I'll enjoy painting. As a bonus the massive amount of detail in it will more than likely take my mind off the girl for a while. Alice has already told me the final score for their next game so I'll make sure it's clearly visible on the scoreboard. I take the Volvo and park it almost opposite CenturyLink Field then walk the short distance to my chosen wall carrying my heavier than usual amount of paints and brushes in a massive backpack. It's almost two in the morning by now and apart from the occasional vehicle driving past, the area is totally deserted.

I start at the top of the wall; my strong fingers on my left hand and the sides of my feet easily supporting my weight on the lumpy surface. I must look like a human spider to anyone who's watching me work but I don't think anything of it. I can clamber up most sheer walls effortlessly so Peter Parker has nothing on me.

Only the score-board section of the mural is above arms-length height and I finish it in a few minutes then concentrate on what's happening on the field. Alice's picture is in my mind when I paint the moment when the players in the two opposing sides face off then explode into action. I also copy the excitement and enthusiasm of the Seahawk fans as they spur their side on to glory. It's a fantastic image to paint and I set about it eagerly.

I can't help thinking about the girl while I'm painting, imagining her visiting this place to view my work. I can see her standing back to take in the whole image and then coming up close to examine it in detail. As I'm painting the faces of the crowd I have the idea to include hers among them. She wouldn't be shouting encouragement at the players like all the other fans standing around her; she'd be staring straight at the artist, in other words 'me'. She'd have an inquisitive look on her face as though she was questioning my motives, which is what I want her to do rather than just admiring my skill. As I paint her, I can see her as clearly as though she's standing in front of me and I wonder what her reaction will be when she sees herself on the mural.

Even though I can paint incredibly fast I still haven't had as much time as I'd like to complete the rest of the mural to the standard I aim for. As I'm putting some more finishing touches to the crowd's faces, I hear several cars drive behind me in the space of a minute, which means the city is gradually coming back to life. I glance at my cell phone and I'm shocked to see that it's nearly five which is the latest I've dared being out. It's still dark as the sky is covered with cloud but the sun would be breaking through at any moment which is not ideal. As I pack up my brushes and paints, a truck slows down and two guys in the cab lean across to look at what I've created.

"Hey man, that's fuckin' awesome," one of them yells, then the driver toots his horn and drives off.

I don't hang about any longer but race back to where I've left the Volvo and head home.

I creep into the house just after five-thirty. The communal parts of our spacious home are usually deserted at this time of night as we keep to normal 'bed times'. Even though we don't need to sleep we like to rest, and we also use this time to meditate when the house is quiet and still.

I creep towards the stairs and I'm just about to put my foot on the bottom step when I hear Carlisle's voice coming from behind the back of his favourite chair, which is in the prime position facing the French windows that overlook our inlet.

"Edward, would you mind telling me where you've been tonight?" he growls in his customary, ' _don't fuck with me_ ' tone of voice which I know only too well.

I swallow hard, which is a human reaction I've never lost, as there's one thing I would never dare do in this house and that's lie to Carlisle Cullen, which means, quite simply, that I'm more than likely screwed.

* * *

 **Oh Lordy!**

 **I hope you've enjoyed the first foray into what Edward has been up to since his lonely boat trip.**

 **We now know that Alice has fed Edward predictions of future events and has also told Edward about Bella coming to work in Seattle. She's obviously foreseen the impact Bella has on him and is warning him that this unnamed girl might be a distraction in the weeks ahead, which may tempt him to take risks.**

 **It's also plain that Edward and Alice haven't told the rest of the family about the earthquake yet, or that Edward is effectively warning the city, which is against the Volturi's rules. It would be dangerous for both of them if the folks who live in Italy found out what they're up to.**

 **Most importantly though, the reason why he's risking his life is to save the children in the art club who mean a lot to him. He set the wheels in motion long before he knew of Bella's existence, so saving her is not the prime reason why he's painting the murals.**

 **Next time we find out about Edward's background and more about the family. Also something happens to Alice which he totally wasn't expecting.**

 **Joan xx**


	15. Chapter 15

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

* * *

I place the bag of paints on the floor and stroll as calmly as possible to where Carlisle is sitting in judgement, in a measured attempt to prove to him that I'm not bothered by his question. He has a book on his lap but it's the wrong way round, suggesting to me he's only been pretending to read and has been sitting up waiting for me to come home.

During the precious few seconds it takes for me to walk over and take the seat facing him, my brain is rapidly trying to think of a plausible excuse why I've been out all night, without having to disclose the motive behind my actions. Alice and I usually hunt together at night but occasionally we go separately, so something must have triggered Carlisle to be suspicious enough to ask where I've been which he's never done before. Carlisle can read me like an open book so I know I'll have to be very careful what I say to him as he can always tell when I'm not being entirely honest.

"I've been painting a mural, Carlisle," I reply without any emotion in my voice and show him the evidence of paint on my hands but I'm still wracking my brain how I'm going to get out of this.

Carlisle's eyes widen slightly as he peers at each hand and then at my paint-splattered clothes and my blackened face, and then he gives me one of his laser beam stares.

"Elaborate please," he responds in his ' _I'm not taking any shit from you_ ' tone, which is slightly different from the ' _don't fuck with me_ ' tone believe it or not.

"I'm an artist, Carlisle ..."

I stop then as I've thought of a good enough excuse for my night-time activites.

"No ... let me re-phrase that ... I'm a _frustrated_ artist, Carlisle, but as you're well aware I currently have no outlet for my work. So I've decided to brighten up parts of the city by anonymously painting murals at night. Is that a problem?"

"No … not unless you're seen and arrested," he replies cagily, then he strokes his chin while he digests my explanation, which signals to me he isn't entirely convinced by my story.

"Where have you been tonight then?"

"CenturyLink Field," I reply honestly. "I've been painting a football mural on the side of a building close to the stadium. Go and have a look at it next time you're in the city."

"I will," he replies sharply then picks up his book, turns it around and starts reading, meaning the interrogation is over for now.

I nonchalantly stroll back to the stairs, grab my bag then leap up the steps three at a time. As I head down the corridor to my room, I tap in to what he's thinking while he pretends to read his book, which is that he doesn't believe for one minute I've been painting murals because I'm artistically frustrated, or for altruistic reasons; in other words to give something back to the city. He definitely suspects there's another motive behind my decision to inflict my talents on the unsuspecting population of Seattle but he's not going to press me any further for the moment.

As I walk past Carlisle and Esme's room, I can clearly make out what Esme's thinking right now. She's worried for me, and for Alice too. She suspects something is going on between us and her first concern is that we're planning to leave, which is the one thing she always dreads. She treats both of us, and Emmett and Rosalie, like sons and daughters, so her mothering instincts at the moment are in overdrive. I'm tempted to knock on her door so I can reassure her that leaving the family is the last thing on my mind, but decide not to say anything to her tonight as I don't want her to question me, as I really do have difficulty lying to her.

Carlisle and Esme, especially Esme, are my saviours. Without them I definitely wouldn't still be alive. Many years ago they'd pulled me out of a pit of despair when I'd been at the lowest point of my existence, by convincing me after months of persuasion that life really is worth living. Being welcomed into their home and their lives kept me from travelling to Volterra to end it all, and for this reason I'll be eternally grateful for every moment I've lived since on this troubled but still incredibly beautiful earth.

As I close my bedroom door and sling my bag of paints in the corner of the room, I recall the day when I was rescued by the couple who, for all intents and purposes, have become my parents.

They found me in January 1918, when the world around me was completely embroiled in a vicious war and I couldn't at that point see an end to the hostilities. Everything I'd loved about Europe was being destroyed around me and I couldn't foresee how and when it was going to end, and what was going to be left when the cannons stopped firing.

Nearly four years previously, in June 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in Sarajevo and the hostilities commenced a month later. I was living in the Netherlands at the time, brushing up on my landscaping skills at The Hague School of Art, and when war was declared I knew instinctively my life was never going to be the same again. Very rapidly Europe fell into a state of chaos as millions died in the trenches and battlefields of Belgium and France and many more millions perished in the conflict which rapidly spread across Europe and other parts of the world. By the summer of 1917 I'd lost all hope that civilisation could ever survive this disaster and was at this point despairing and weary with life.

Not for the first time I fell into a state of severe depression and gave up hunting undesirable humans for nourishment. It was then that Carlisle and Esme came across me staggering through the snow in the Dolomites on my way to Volterra to end it all. I was as thin as a wraith by then and hallucinating due to lack of food, so they took me to their beautiful home on the shores of Lake Lugano and nursed my body back to health. By the time I'd _physically_ recovered from voluntary starvation, the war was coming to an end and the storm clouds which had covered Europe for the past four years were gradually lifting. It was then I began to regain hope and commence the long road to mental recovery.

The crippling depression affecting me took much longer to shake off than my physical problems, and it wasn't until the late 1920's I finally admitted to myself that the heavy mantle of gloom and despair I'd been carrying since the start of the war had fallen away from my shoulders. Not long after I had a brief affair with a high-spirited new-born girl which lifted my mood considerably. She was passing through northern Italy on her way to Volterra to join the Volturi, but when she left I didn't regret the parting of ways as we weren't compatible in many respects. For me, and probably for her, it had just been about sex. It wasn't long after she left that Carlisle announced his intention to move to America as he was ready for a total change of scenery. I happily agreed to go with him and leave Europe for the very first time.

We left Italy in the summer of 1936 as the storm clouds of war were already gathering over Spain and brewing elsewhere in northern Europe. While crossing the water we picked up a travelling companion on the way and our family grew by one. Emmett was an American who was on his way back to his homeland after a brief spell in Europe. He burst into our lives like a tornado, and during our first ten years of living the American Dream he caused Esme and Carlisle endless problems with his antics, mainly to do with women; human women that is. To this day I'm still amazed how the female population of Chicago failed to notice how different Emmett was to a human man, or how he managed to control himself when he was with them. Even though I hadn't tasted human blood since 1917, I still found some situations difficult when I was out in the city, so much so that quite often I had to leave wherever I was when temptation struck and then run and run until the urges left me. How Emmett stopped himself from sucking the life from human women during sex was a total mystery to me.

Emmett came across Rosalie in the late 1940's. She was a gangster's moll who got caught up in a vicious gangland gunfight. He'd smelled her blood when he was out at night in the city and found her in an alleyway bleeding to death. He carried her home and begged Carlisle to do what he could for her, but she was too far gone for regular medicine so Carlisle saved her in the only way he knew how. From the moment she woke she fell passionately in love with Emmett who had remained by her side the whole time she was unconscious. Almost seventy years later they were still inseparable, and, fortunately for the female population of each city we resided in afterwards, Rosalie had ended Emmett's predatory sexual behavior for good.

Alice was a Denali, in that she'd been living with our 'cousins' in Alaska since the 1820's. When we spent some time at their home in the mid-1960's, Alice decided to come south with us when we started a new life in Detroit. I'd never had a sister-figure in my life before so became her protector of sorts and she in turn looked out for me. It was unfortunate I wasn't romantically attracted to Alice or her to me as we would have made the ideal couple, but there was no sexual chemistry between us at all. I loved her and she loved me, but it was familial love only and we were happy to leave it like that.

We voluntarily moved from city to city every twenty years or so, or earlier if questions started to be asked by anyone who noticed we were different. Carlisle gave up medicine when we moved to Seattle in 2004 where he started a business buying old or damaged boats. He refurbished them himself before selling them on for profit which was how we funded our existence, along with Alice assisting the family with their investments. Emmett and I would help out with the heavy stuff in the boatyard when required while Esme and Alice designed the interiors of the refurbished vessels. Living by the sea in this beautiful part of the world and learning to sail had become an idyllic way of life for me and I could truly say I'd been happier here than I'd ever been in my long, and for most of the time, tedious existence.

Despite being much older than Carlisle and Esme, I quickly settled into a comfortable routine as their son. Now I love Esme more than anyone on earth and have the utmost respect for Carlisle, so I'm happy to comply with their rules and restrictions. However I know without a shadow of a doubt, that when Carlisle discovers Alice and I have been interfering with the natural order of ways, he will go totally ballistic.

As I step under the shower to blast my skin with steaming hot water, I physically shudder when I imagine the moment when Alice and I will have to own up to what we've been doing. I just hope and pray they'll believe this is not an act of betrayal and will support us because we've acted for the common good. Only time will tell.

And then my thoughts turn to the yet unnamed girl who is now permanently residing in my sub-conscience. She is human, so in my world unattainable. If she is the one Alice predicts I will fall in love with, how this will turn out for me or her I cannot tell. Alice isn't giving me the whole story yet, I accept that, but I have to trust that she's blocking certain pieces of information from me for my own good.

Being able to read minds is both a blessing and a curse, but there's no way on earth I would swop my mind-reading ability for Alice's affliction. In my opinion being able to see the future is probably the worst curse imaginable, as to know what's going to happen, good or bad, would for me be unbearable. But there's definitely something else Alice is worrying about; something that's troubling her greatly. I can read her like I've known her for centuries and not just for the last fifty years or so.

When she told me about the girl, the Alice I knew and loved would have been on the point of exploding with excitement about me finally meeting my soul mate. But there was hesitancy in her voice, or maybe it was confusion, almost as though the complication wasn't just that this girl was going to have an impact on my life and what was going to happen after. There was definitely something else going on in her head as well.

I step out the shower and dry myself off but leave my long hair to dry naturally. I smile when I think of all the times Alice has tried to sneak up on me with a pair of scissors as she hates long hair, but once it's cut short I'll never be able to grow it back again. My hair hasn't grown since the last time I had it chopped by my mother only a few weeks before I was changed, and it's my one abiding memory of the last time she fussed over me. Every time I look in the mirror to check my face or hair, I can see her standing behind me, ruffling it up with her weathered fingers as she sliced the ends off with a rough blade, then kissing the top of my head before sending me off to help my father in the fields. Cutting my hair would be the same as cutting her from my memory, and this is something I could never do.

Before getting dressed I apply a thick, creamy lotion to my hands, arms, face and neck. This revolting but amazing substance prevents our skin from sparkling in the sunlight which has altered our lives for the better immeasurably. It had been invented quite recently by medical scientists who developed a treatment for patients with the disabling skin condition Xeroderma Pigmentosum. These poor people suffer from extreme sensitivity to ultraviolet rays from sunlight and their skin blisters after only a tiny amount of exposure to the sun. By chance Carlisle read an article about the lotion in The Lancet and managed to get hold of a supply through one of his medical contacts and found it was an extremely effective barrier to the sun's rays. Consequently we're now able to walk in the sunlight for short periods of time and this has given our kind a modicum of freedom we've never had before.

I lie on my bed while the lotion does its work and go over what else I need to do before crunch time. I realise if Alice is right, it's not long before the girl arrives in Seattle and I need to paint at least two more of the murals before she starts working with the guy I'd already seen. Plus I'm itching to do the one about the shark but Alice hasn't given me the okay yet. It's Wednesday morning now; the weather forecast looks reasonable for tonight but then it deteriorates for a couple of days afterwards. I have art club on Friday so could do one later on if the rain clears. Time is definitely running out though.

An hour or so later I leave my room and go to find Esme to put her mind at rest. She's in one of the greenhouses potting seedlings into trays and oblivious to my presence until she notices my shadow on the glass. She jumps in surprise then turns and gives me one of her radiant smiles.

"Eduardo, tesoro," she says in Italian, which is our first language, and kisses me lightly on the cheek. "Where were you last night? Carlisle said he heard you racing off like a bat out of hell at gone one in the morning."

I pretend to laugh and give her an all-encompassing hug, lifting her off the ground for a few seconds until she shrieks.

"I've already spoken to Carlisle," I say as I put her back on her feet. "I painted a mural on a wall close to CenturyLink Field and I was covered in paint when I got back, so I think he believed me."

"Hmmm, well, I never know what's going on in Carlisle's mind, but of course _you do_. As long as you're not getting up to mischief, that's alright. But I'm certain you and Alice are up to something, Edward. I've seen you two closeted together, talking without speaking, which is very rude you know."

"Sorry Esme," I say and give her the best 'sheepish' expression I have in my arsenal.

"Well … are you up to something?" she asks with her eyebrows raised further than I thought possible.

"Sort of," I reply and give her a knowing wink. "It'll be a surprise, so don't spoil it, okay?"

"Alright, Edward. I won't press you any further, but I've been worried about you. I don't want you falling into a depressed state again so if there's anything bothering you, you must talk to me."

"I will, Esme," I reassure her and then I add, "I'm happier here than I've ever been in my whole life, so don't you worry your head that I'm going to leave you and Carlisle. You're my family and will be forever. I promise."

Esme hugs me again and whispers, "Thank you" in my ear then turns back to concentrate on her plants. I know if she'd been able to cry she'd be sobbing by now, so I don't hang around but leave her doing what she does best, which is nurturing, tending, nursing and caring, but this time it's her flowers that are on the receiving end of her talents, not me.

I decide I'd better spend some time with Carlisle as I need to convince him that I'm not purposely trying to avoid him, so I wander down to our largest boathouse/workshop, where I can hear the sound of an electric polisher being used on the hull of a wooden vessel of some description. As I open the door the noise becomes deafening to my ultra-sensitive ears so I grab a set of ear defenders lying conveniently on a bench and put them on.

Carlisle and Emmett are currently working on a classic _Riva_ speedboat they'd picked up at an auction about three weeks ago. Riva's are Carlisle's passion, and the _Riva_ _Aquarama_ he keeps under lock and key, (the one Emmett, Alice and I aren't allowed to go within ten feet of without his permission), is his pride and joy. He upgrades and repairs other types of boats like small Sunseekers or other ocean going motor vessels, but in his opinion no-one builds boats like the Italians, and Riva's are the undisputed leaders in design and performance he claims, and I'm not going to argue.

I expect to see Rosalie sitting in the corner of the boathouse watching Emmett work but she's nowhere in sight. Rosalie very rarely leaves Emmett's side and Emmett is more than happy with this arrangement so I ask him where she is.

"She's gone into the city with Alice," he replies nonchalantly. "Alice was insistent this morning so Rosalie gave in for a quiet life. She promised they wouldn't be long."

"Do you know why?" I ask as Alice usually tells me when she's going off anywhere unless she's trying to avoid me, which makes me suspicious again.

"Nope! Girly stuff I presume; I don't dare interfere. I was surprised though."

"Why?" I reply.

"Well, Alice hasn't wanted or needed company for a while. She's always happy to take the Porsche and do her own thing but she sounded odd when she spoke to Rosalie this morning, almost as though her life depended on going into town today. Have you picked up any weird thoughts meandering through that overloaded brain of hers lately?"

"No, I haven't," I lie. "Mind you, I wouldn't say if I had. Alice's thoughts are private so if I did pick something up I wouldn't pass it on. You understand why?"

"Yeah, sure," he replies. "Not my business anyway; I'm sure we'll find out what she's up to soon enough though."

I wander over to Carlisle who's turned off the polisher by now. "Can I help," I offer.

Carlisle picks a thick cloth off the bench and hands me some linseed oil and points to the stern. "You can start that end," he says and grins evilly. Oiling the boat is a horrible messy job so I wish I'd never asked.

I spend about an hour in the boathouse and we chat about general things like the next auction, Esme's birthday which is next month and possibly visiting the Denali's in the winter time, but I did pick up Carlisle was still suspicious that something was going on with either me or Alice, or both of us. I feel guilty keeping him from knowing what we're doing but I want to leave telling him until the last minute, just in case the Volturi find out that I've in effect 'broken their rules', then Carlisle can honestly state to the judge and jury that no-one else in the family was complicit.

Emmett hears the Porsche coming up the drive before I do and is out the door like a lightning bolt. Even though he's been acting totally normally in front of Carlisle and me, he's been patently suffering from separation anxiety and is in Rosalie's arms in the blink of an eye. She tries to laugh it off but I can tell from her thoughts that she's relieved to be home. Alice had driven like a maniac to get her back before she had a nervous breakdown and she'd screamed all the way. I must admit I enjoyed re-living the more exciting parts of the journey which Alice gleefully recalls in her head for my amusement.

"Hey!" I say as I put my arm around Alice's shoulders. "Did you have fun?" I ask.

"It was interesting," she replies and then thinks the words, "follow me," which I do.

As we cross the lawn heading for our jetty I'm reading her mind, trying to pre-empt what she's hopefully going to disclose to me, and I'm surprised to see the football mural I painted last night is in her thoughts. As we walk towards the water's edge, she's allowing me to see she'd taken Rosalie to view it, but this wasn't the whole story. The guy who I'd seen before was also there looking at the picture and taking photographs. Then he turned and spotted Alice and Rosalie watching him.

I was expecting the two of them to make a run for it like I did when he saw me, but they stood their ground and allowed the guy to come up close to them.

"What do you think," he asks Rosalie when he's standing in front of them, but from the picture of the scene Alice is projecting to me, once he glances at Alice he can't keep his eyes off her.

"It's very good," Rosalie responds. "Who painted it?" she asks innocently.

"We don't know, ma'am," he replies while still looking at Alice. "We'd like to know because he's very talented."

"So you know the artist is a 'he'," Alice asks in a very strange and very 'girly' voice.

"We think so, but we're not absolutely sure. Have you seen anyone painting or spraying graffiti around here."

"No," Alice replies, "but if we do would you like us to contact you?"

"Sure," he says and I pick up a hint of eagerness in his voice. "Let me give you my card. I work for the Public Utilities Department in the city."

He searches his pockets until he finds a small leather wallet containing a wad of cards and hands one to Alice.

"I'm not known by that name," he says. "Everyone calls me Jay."

"Nice to meet you, Jay," Alice replies and now her voice sounds 'breathy', and slowly the penny is starting to drop as I realise what's going on. "Hopefully I'll be in touch then," she adds then she looks up at Rosalie who has also cottoned on to the fact that 'Jay' is rocking her world, which has rendered Rosalie, probably for the first time in her life, speechless.

"Sorry ladies, I must get going. It was nice talking to you," Jay says and through Alice's eyes, I watch him as he walks back to his car. As he drives away, Alice holds his card up to read what is printed on there, which is when I see his proper name for the first time …

'Jasper J. Whitlock' - City Cleansing Department

No wonder he changed it!

* * *

By the time I finish reading her thoughts we've reached the jetty which is just out of earshot of the rest of the family. This is our favourite place to talk in private and as we get comfortable with our feet dangling over the edge, I let Alice comment first on what she's just shown me.

"So now you know," she says wistfully. "It's not just you who's going to be torn to shreds by a human, it's me as well."

"How long have you known," I ask as I put my arm around her.

"Only for a couple of weeks, Edward. It took me totally by surprise when I first saw him by the Frye Art Museum. I knew I was seriously attracted to him then, even though he's absolutely not my type. I tried my best to forget him but haven't been able to get him out of my mind and my curiosity about how he has affected me so strongly has been driving me insane ever since. I knew I needed to see him again so I asked Rosalie to come with me today because I didn't want to be on my own when I saw him in the flesh again, just in case I did something stupid. I wanted to prove to myself I was imagining it or he wasn't as attractive close up, but it's only made the situation worse. There's something about him that's driving me crazy and when he talked to me and looked into my eyes, it was like there was a magnet inside me dragging me towards him. It took all my strength not to jump him when I was talking to him."

"Jeeez!" I say out loud while wondering whether this would happen to me when I saw the unnamed girl for the first time. At least Alice had mentally prepared me for it if it did.

"So do you think he was attracted to you?" I ask, even though it was patently obvious he was as he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"I think so, but there's no point even if he is. I can't risk being with him just as you can't risk being with her, unless we change them, and we can't do that unless they're dying. Effing Volturi rules!"

"We're fucked then," I muse philosophically.

"Completely and utterly," she agrees and rests her head on my shoulder.

We sit on the jetty for hours until it starts to rain which means I can't paint tonight. Instead I thrill Esme by playing the piano for the family, which is something I haven't done in a while. The pieces I play are quite melancholy and I know from Esme's thoughts that I haven't yet completely persuaded her that I'm not getting depressed again, so I finish with a few jolly tunes to attempt to reassure her but she still remains unconvinced.

The next day I help Carlisle with the boat again and fortunately and unexpectedly the weather lifts which allows me to go into the city during the night to paint two more murals. The first one is of an inverted submarine which I know will ruffle a few feathers at the naval base when they hear about it. It only takes me about half an hour to finish this one so I shoot down to the wall I'd chosen close to the zoo and paint the cartoon animals waiting to see the psychiatrist. I hope this one will trigger a suspicion that something untoward is going to happen, as animals have superior senses and somehow know when a natural disaster is about to strike.

Carlisle isn't waiting for me when I get home this time but Alice is. She's on the front porch with her telescope looking at the stars, but being frustrated by the thickening clouds blocking her view of whatever she's observing. I hear her mentally curse, then through her thoughts see a vision of Jupiter disappearing behind a particularly dense cloud.

"Don't worry, it'll be back tomorrow," I say to placate her as I mount the steps.

"I know, but it was particularly bright tonight because there were no stars in the vicinity."

"What are you talking about; the nearest star is over four light years away."

"I know that, Edward," she replies in a 'duh' voice. "When I'm looking through the refractor, if there's a star in the lens it dulls the image of the planet."

"Ah right," I reply guiltily as I actually know what she's talking about for a once.

"How did it go tonight?" she asks as she puts the cap over the mirror which signals she's given up star or planet-gazing for the night.

"Good," I reply. "I did the submarine and the stressed animals pictures and they came out well. I'm going to do Beelzebub's tomorrow if the weather's okay and then I don't want to do any more now until you give me the okay to do the shark one."

"You can do it a week on Sunday, Edward," Alice replies quietly and then adds, "You're going to paint it on the front of the Aquarium. Your girl is starting work with Jay on the following Monday morning and I'm guessing he'll take her to see it during the afternoon. I want you to make it your best one yet so it blows her socks off."

"As good as that," I smirk. "Is the weather going to be kind?" I ask.

"Perfect. No moon and completely dry. It's going to be risky painting it there though as the Alaskan Way is never totally deserted. Would you like me to come with you to keep watch?"

I think about her offer for a few seconds then nod in affirmation. "Yeah, that would be good. You can warn me if anyone decides to stop and look, thanks."

"You're welcome," she says and smiles at me for a moment and then she frowns and shakes her head.

"What's up?" I ask.

"I've been trying to foresee how Carlisle is going to react when we tell him, well tell the family that is, but I can't predict anything for certain as there are too many variables about what's going to happen before this is all over. Now more than any other time I wish I could see things that relate to my own circumstances accurately, but this is too close to me personally. The outcome for me and you changes every day; it's like our future is a moving target and it's making my head spin. There's something else brewing to do with this girl which I can't see clearly yet; it's like looking through a fog at a grainy picture in the distance. I just hope it comes clear before too long."

"We're going to have to tell Carlisle soon though," I reply. "I've decided to own up straight after I've painted the final mural because by then it'll be too late to go back."

Alice nods her head in agreement then looks up at the sky again, possibly hoping for some divine inspiration to rain down on her.

"I think we should do it when they're all together, Edward, because I'm sure Emmett and Rosalie will support us. Esme may too, but Carlisle is a stickler for not interfering with the human population. I still can't tell whether what we're doing is going to work though. I keep seeing all these different scenarios for the city; some of them are tragic and some are incredibly uplifting."

When she says this it occurs to me that my plan might not work and I shudder thinking of the consequences, especially for the kids in my club. If the people in authority don't take the bait I would have to have a Plan B, like taking the kids away from the city on a trip, but to do this I would need all sorts of child protection type clearances which would be impossible to get at short notice. Then I start thinking logically. If I took them out for a 'surprise' trip on the Monday night it was due to happen, what would they come back to? No home, no family, nothing. So there was no point saving them, unless I was willing to take them all on until they were old enough to fend for themselves.

I hated this, not knowing precisely what was going to actually happen. I hated that I had to defy the rules of our kind. I hated keeping this from Carlisle and Esme. I hated the fact that my life was going to change.

But most of all I hated the fact that for the first time since 1564, I truly cared.

* * *

 **1564! As long ago as that. Now what happened in 1564? (I bet you're all going to type 1564 into Google now - good luck)! I hope you liking his back story so far, which explains the trace of an accent Bella heard in his voice (Italiano - Si!), and his long hair (sniff). He's also had relationships before! That's new.**

 **A lot of you guessed that Jay was Jasper (dammit), so maybe Alice will start stalking _him_ now. **

**Carlisle definitely suspects that something is going on between Alice and Edward but he doesn't know what. He's a bit of a control-freak, but for all the best possible reasons because he wants to keep his family safe and it's a dangerous world out there. Like Edward, he's very old in years, and he's used to being 'the man of the house' like fathers were in the old days. Edward accepts this as Carlisle and Esme were an established couple when he met them so he's happy to fit in with their way of living as they've provided him with a proper home.**

 **Carlisle will soon be demanding answers from Edward though, but a** **s long as Carlisle and the others have no idea that Edward and Alice are warning the city about the earthquake, if the Volturi finds out what they've been up to Carlisle and the rest of the family won't be held accountable, so they won't have to pay the same penalty as Edward and Alice.**

 **Next chapter, Edward paints the mural on the Aquarium and lays eyes on Bella for the first time, but it's before she spots him standing under the Viaduct.**

 **Joan x**


	16. Chapter 16

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

* * *

 **Sunday 23rd April**

Even though it's been raining all day Alice assures me the weather will be fine tonight so I'll be able to paint the mural on the Aquarium. I've estimated this one will take four to five hours at least but I don't want to rush it as it needs to be absolutely perfect. I'll have to be doubly stealthy this time though as the waterfront is a busy place.

I've been spotted a few times while I've been painting the other murals, but Seattle folk are either so chilled when they're out late at night that they either presume I'm allowed to be there, or are totally anti-establishment that they couldn't give a f…, or they're so stoned they can't remember in the morning what they'd seen. It'll be a totally different ball game on the waterfront though as it's the most vibrant and buzziest part of town, even on a Sunday.

The Aquarium is an iconic landmark in Seattle, which is why Alice suggested I deface it. Our hope is that this will be _the_ shoulder-shaking wake up call to the people in authority who need to start realising there's a message behind my murals. I know Jay/Jasper has caught sight of me twice already, and I've had a few fortunately unconcerned witnesses while I've been painting before, but this time I don't want to be spotted by anyone as I'm positive even the most laid-back citizen would report me as soon as they saw me vandalising this particular building.

When it's time to leave for the city I knock on Alice's door to let her know I'm ready to go. She appears immediately and I have to suppress laughing out loud. She's dressed from head to toe in tight, black, stretchy clothing. All she needs is a long tail and whiskers and she'd look like a cat.

"You ready, Tiddles?" I joke, following which she punches me on my arm.

"Not funny," she huffs and shoots down the corridor. She's in the Volvo before I get to the top of the stairs.

It's just after midnight by the time we get there. There's still a steady stream of traffic going up and down the Alaskan Way or rumbling overhead on the Viaduct, but the boardwalk in front of the Aquarium is as quiet as it could ever be at this time of night. Occasionally a solitary pedestrian would stroll nearby, but most of the time they'd either be drunk or staring at their cell phone. When groups of friends wander past, they'd usually be laughing and chatting with one another and would not be the slightest bit interested in what was going on around them. Alice would hiss a warning if someone who really looked like they might be inquisitive was coming our way, so I'd duck out of sight until they passed by then start again as soon as the coast was clear. Luckily the only building on this pier is the Aquarium so there's no need for anyone to walk past where I'm painting or to come down this far at night, unless they were planning to throw themselves into the ocean.

After brushing the wall down first as it's covered in a fine layer of sea salt, this time I start on the mural working from the bottom upwards. There are several low-voltage street lamps along the edge of the boardwalk giving off a soft glow, but the foot of the building is in shadow so it's less likely I'll be spotted while there are still some late-night revellers around.

The corals take the longest to paint as I want the edges to look razor sharp and 'in-ya-face' colorful. After I paint those, I draw the outlines of the fish and the sea creatures including the turtles, then the wafting seaweeds they swim through. By the time I've finished filling them in with color it's already gone three in the morning and the waterfront is now totally deserted. Cars are still constantly passing overhead on the viaduct but the Alaskan Way and the waterfront piers and sidewalks are quiet with only one car or truck going past every minute or so. The people I fear most are the overnight street cleaners as they would definitely report me either to their controllers or the police if they spotted me working, so we're both constantly listening out for the distinctive sound of their trucks.

When it's time to paint the shark and the diver, I clamber up an unpainted part of the wall using my fingers and the edges of my feet, but the top section of the brickwork is so smooth I can't get an adequate enough grip to hold my weight for any length of time. I don't want to damage the areas that I've already painted lower down either as they are still drying, which means I've got a problem. I frantically look around to see if there's anything I can stand on as there's no point drawing the mural if I can't include the shark and the diver, but there's nothing movable nearby I can use, apart from Alice. I call her over from her lookout position and put it to her.

"I'm going to have to stand on your shoulders. Are you okay with that?"

"Sure," she replies readily, "but don't you dare drip paint in my hair. I've got three very expensive highlights in it at the moment; I don't want or need three more, okay?"

"Okay," I reply while trying not to laugh. Only Alice would think of her appearance in a situation like this. Well, that's not actually true. Rosalie wouldn't even consider letting me stand on her shoulders in the first place. I pull my hoodie off and tell Alice to put it on as I've reluctantly decided that I'll have to use spray paint on the top half to speed things up which will cause a fine mist of color to fall in her direction and definitely over her hair.

I sling a smaller bag of paints in front of me and tell Alice where to stand. She keeps her back to the wall so she can still keep an eye on our surroundings, while I balance like an acrobat on her shoulders; my bag of paints slung in front of me, brushes in one hand and the paint I'm using in the other. Even though she's tiny compared to me, Alice is super-strong and could support two guys my size with ease, so I'm not worried about hurting her or she'll get tired.

Painting the lower half of the mural took much longer than anticipated so I use spray paint as a base for the wide expanse of ocean above the corals. I have to keep asking Alice to move to the left or right every couple of minutes when I start painting the shark and the diver, but I manage to finish both figures quite quickly as I only needed to use gray, black and white paint against the blue and green background. When I'm happy with the figures, I check the time as it still hasn't started to get light yet, so I figure I have enough time to add some finishing touches to the ocean using a brush. So for added impact I add shafts of sunlight breaking through the surface which burnishes the shells of the turtles and makes them look awesome, even though I say so myself.

I spend the final fifteen minutes or so putting some more finishing touches to the lower part of the mural, including re-painting a few spots where I'd damaged it when I had to lean on it. It's getting light by now, but I carry on until Alice hisses that the city really is coming back to life again so we've got to go. I give an angel fish a last dab of paint then walk backwards to take in the whole effect and I'm cautiously confident it will blow the girl's socks off, and hopefully anybody else's socks who sees it.

Alice helps me gather up my materials and as we hurry away from the waterfront at just after five o'clock, the first hint that it's going to be a stunningly beautiful morning becomes obvious as a warm glow is already spreading across the multi-colored sky and a cool refreshing breeze is stirring the air which makes my skin tingle. I'm gutted, because it looks like today is going to be one of those magnificently special sailing days after weeks of generally miserable weather, but I've other more pressing plans for the next few hours so I'll have to pass on taking advantage of the first indication that summer is peeping over the horizon.

We hurriedly jog towards where I parked the Volvo but before I slide into the driver's seat, I look back at the Aquarium, imagining the girl's reaction when she sees the mural for the first time this afternoon. Already a couple of guys who are probably on their way to work have stopped and are staring at the wall which is now bathed in the early morning light. One of them reaches into his pocket and gets something out. Then I see a flash, and I realise he's taken a picture of it with his cell phone.

I drive Alice back to the house but stay in the car while she climbs out.

"Aren't you coming in?" she enquires through the open window.

"I've got something to do," I reply hastily and pull away before she can question me. I can read her thoughts though as I roar up the drive and they're along the lines of, "ungrateful bastard." Then she muses, "I bet he's escaping because he's got paint in my hair." I laugh out loud, but she's wrong; her hair is as pristine as it was when we left home.

I drive back to the city and park close to the Municipal Tower then sit in the car for over two hours until my cell phone says eight-thirty. I'm guessing she'll get to work early on her first day, so after pulling my paint splattered hoodie back on, I take up position sitting on a low wall outside the Columbia Centre which is directly opposite the entrance to her building, and, most importantly, is in the shade as I'm presuming the lotion on my face will have worn off by now. I guess I must look like a tramp huddled up on the wall in my scruffy clothes, but no-one bothers to question me while I watch and wait for the girl to appear.

By ten to nine I'm beginning to think I've missed her, or she's driven in and parked in the underground lot. I'm in the process of mentally kicking myself for not getting here earlier when I spot her in the distance, walking slowly towards me on the opposite side of the street. Frustratingly I can't see her face as she's staring at the sidewalk, which causes her luscious long brown hair to flop like a curtain over her cheeks. For someone who's starting a new job and should at least be a tiny bit enthusiastic or excited, this girl seems to be totally depressed.

As she's approaching the crossroads two junctions away from where I'm sitting, she raises her head at last and looks up at the building towering above her, which allows me to see her face clearly for the first time. I'm relieved Alice warned me what my reaction might be, because if she hadn't I wouldn't have known what the hell was happening to me. The expression 'blown away' is seriously over-used nowadays, but in this instance it's the only way I can describe the impact seeing her in real life is having on every part of my being. If I hadn't been sitting on the wall I'm sure I would have dropped to my knees.

Her face is the actual one I've painted over the centuries. When I'd imagined female perfection, this girl had been in my mind's eye ever since the day I picked up my first paint brush over six centuries ago. Who is she? Where does she come from? If somebody told me she was a direct descendent of Aphrodite I would believe them.

But as I stare open-mouthed at this living, breathing goddess, it's plain to me that for some reason she's in mental agony. It's written all over her flawless face and I need to know why. I try to single out her thoughts from the cacophony of internal voices I hear all around me, but she's still too far away for me to figure out which one is hers, as everybody, without exception, has the Monday-morning blues. As she stands by the side of the road waiting for an opportunity to cross, I'm tempted to run over and walk next to her so I can listen in to what's on her mind, but as I get to my feet she takes a step backwards and collides with a well-dressed woman standing behind her.

As she apologises to the snooty battleaxe she's bumped into, I notice she's pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. She reads a message then wipes the back of her hand across her eyes to get rid of invisible tears and I can tell she's trying to control herself. The temptation to rush over and comfort her is overwhelming me by now, but before I have a chance to do anything, or even decide _not_ to do anything, even from this distance I actually hear her speaking out loud to herself.

 _"Okay, Bella, you can do this. Just get a grip – it's not the end of the world."_

As she says these words, I spot Jay jogging past her but he doesn't acknowledge her, which leads me to presume they haven't met before. Her expression changes to one of steely determination as she speeds up and marches across the street, past a Starbucks then across Columbia, and a few seconds after Jay she's swallowed up by the glass and steel monolith that is Seattle's Municipal Tower which is a place I'm absolutely certain she doesn't want to be.

I sink onto the wall and re-live the past few minutes over and over again. Most importantly I know her name now – she's not the _unnamed girl_ anymore. Her name could be Italian, which might explain why her features are so familiar to me. She definitely has a Renaissance quality about her, so maybe reincarnation really does exist as this girl wouldn't have looked out of place in fifteenth century Florence or Venice. Maybe I'd seen her there? But what was she unhappy about? Why did she say what she did? To say I'm intrigued would be an understatement.

After staring at the tower for several minutes, wondering what she's doing now and which floor she's working on, I wander back to the Volvo feeling totally shell-shocked and not caring that my face is probably glittering like a disco ball. Bella has had a profound effect on me and I'm definitely attracted to her, but it isn't love at first sight which is what I was expecting after the build-up Alice had given me. I'm yet to hear her voice clearly. I need to taste her scent and the air around her, but most of all, I'm desperate to read her mind.

I pull into the traffic and slowly make my way back to the house. I'm filthy from wiping the salt off the Aquarium wall before I painted it and I need to shower and change before I see her again. I plan to hang around the waterfront this afternoon as I'm desperate to witness what her reaction will be when she sees the mural for the first time. I hope and pray she likes it, but most of all I want her to be just as intrigued about the mural as I am with her.

I'm certain Jay has seen all my murals by now and I'm positive he's even attributed one to me that wasn't even mine. After he'd spotted me and chased after me at the Kentucky Derby mural site, a few days later I followed him as I was interested to know what he was doing, plus I needed to read his mind to find out whether he was curious about my work. He'd spent the day travelling from one graffiti site to another, taking photographs and details of the unskilled and sometimes offensive scrawls which had been sprayed onto property around Seattle. I know he spotted me when he was looking at a sub-standard mural somebody had drawn near a school, but I managed to jump over a wall and disappear from view when he started to chase me.

I was able to read Jay's mind clearly though. He hated admitting it to himself but he liked my work, but that's as far as it went as he didn't appreciate me using somebody else's wall as a canvas. Annoyingly he knows nothing about art and doesn't have an iota of curiosity in his brain about why I've painted these subjects, so it hadn't occurred to him there could be a subliminal message in my murals. Now Bella has become involved, which is the break I needed in one respect as I want someone in authority to work the message out, but an unexpected and confusing distraction in another.

When I get home, Carlisle, Emmett and Rosalie are in one of the boathouses and Esme is in the garden. Alice must have gone out in her Porsche as it isn't in its usual spot, so the house is deserted for a change. I unload the Volvo of all my paints, pallets and other materials and dump them in my 'studio', which is a small room upstairs which is not used as a bedroom, then go along to my room. After showering and dressing in my customary black again, I get together all the supplies I need for tonight's art club then make my way downstairs.

Alice has returned by now and is in the lounge watching TV but the rest of the family are still outside. Alice gives me a knowing look and I nod my head in return.

"Yes, I've seen her," I confess. "I hung around outside her office until she turned up. I saw Jay as well."

"So?" she enquires. "Is she your soul-mate?"

"I'm attracted to her," I admit. "But her soul is a complete mystery to me. I couldn't read her mind this morning as it was impossible to pick hers out from all the other people near the building. What's in her heart is just as important to me ... no, it's _more_ important to me than her appearance."

"Quite right," Alice replies. "So what are you going to do now?"

"Watch how she reacts at the Aquarium. If I can read her thoughts I'll be able to tell whether she's interested enough in the mural to go see all the others and then take the next step."

I wander over to Alice and kiss the top of her head. "Thanks for your help last night; I couldn't have done it without you."

"I know," she replies smugly. "We're a great team."

"We are," I agree and pick up my bags. "See you later; I'm going straight from the Aquarium to the art club so won't be back until late. If I see Jay, I'll say "Hi," from you."

"Jasper; I prefer Jasper."

I reply with a chortling laugh. Jasper is a pretentiously silly name in my opinion but if she wants to use it, it's fine by me.

I load up the Volvo and head back to the city. The sun is out and the air is warm for the time of year and I feel hot covered from head to toe in black sweats. I'm almost at the waterfront when I realise I've forgotten to re-apply my sun-block lotion, probably because I was thinking about the Bella problem while I was showering. This of course means I'll have to ensure my skin is completely covered when I'm out in the open and I mustn't be tempted to move from underneath the viaduct, however beguiling, enticing, captivating or enthralling Bella's soul is to me.

I leave the Volvo in the parking lot behind the Blues Club just off Union Street and jog towards the Alaskan Way hoping no-one spots that my face is practically giving off sparks the sun is so bright. I keep my hands in my pockets and my head down staring at the sidewalk, but luckily the vast majority of folks I pass are wearing sunglasses so I make it to the safety of the permanent shade under the viaduct without any funny looks. There I push my hood back, undo the zip and roll my sleeves up, as even my chilly body is feeling the effects of the heat.

Time ticks by and it's almost got to three o'clock when the sun is at its hottest and brightest, when Jay appears in my line of vision. I panic for a few seconds as for a moment it seems as though Bella hasn't accompanied him, but then she appears from behind one of the concrete pillars and walks into the light and then she stops. Jay goes on ahead of her, leaving her to stare at the mural from a distance and I can see she's open-mouthed. I feel a thrill of excitement travelling down my back but I don't know whether it's from seeing her again, or the fact that if she'd been wearing socks I'm pretty certain they'd be in shreds by now.

I watch her as she searches for something in her bag without taking her eyes off the mural as she's walking, which I find quite amusing and vainly satisfying. When she's on the boardwalk, she pulls out an impressive looking camera then steps backwards so she can get a full height shot. Jay walks over to her then and thanks to my exceptional hearing, I hear him saying he'll go in the building to find the Aquarium manager. She replies without taking her eyes off the wall that she'll carry on taking photos.

I pull my hood over my head and stick my hands in my pockets to cover as much skin as possible, then move to the absolute limit of the viaduct's shadow to get as close to her as I dare. There are people milling all around her; tourists, ferry passengers, Aquarium visitors and others just wandering past, so I'm having difficulty again singling out her thoughts. I've never had this trouble before. I can usually tap into someone's wavelength in a matter of seconds, but Bella seems to be on a different frequency altogether and I'm becoming more and more frustrated as the precious minutes tick by. Not only that, there's a human nearby with a tantalizing scent which is distracting me, and this added problem doesn't help my concentration at all.

Jay eventually reappears, followed by a man and woman from the Aquarium. The man is already shouting his mouth off, wanting my mural removed as a matter of urgency, but the woman seems keen to keep it at least for the summer season. As they approach Bella, I hear Jay introduce her to them as Bella Swan, so now I know her full name, which totally suits her.

I watch and listen to the disagreement being played out in front of me and I can also pick up a chorus of support for the mural in the thoughts of the bystanders who are looking on with amusement. Most of them are wondering what planet the Aquarium manager is on if he wants to get rid of it and quite a few shout out their views to him which are not complimentary. The angry man stomps back into the building leaving Bella talking to the woman who looks totally fed up to me.

For a brief moment I'm vainly drinking in the praise of the crowd who are admiring the picture, and many of them are trying to find out if anyone knows who painted it. When I focus back on Bella, I realise she's looking straight at me and our eyes meet, literally across a crowded boardwalk rather than a room, and the first window of her soul is flung open wide for me to peer inside and it takes my breath away. Even though I can't hear her thoughts, her eyes speak volumes to me and I can tell so much about her just by this one glance. Curiosity, wonder, admiration, incredulity, suspicion, disbelief, doubt; but this is just her reaction when she first rests her gaze on me. When I look deeper into those soft brown and gold eyes, I can see pain, anger, resentment, hurt and confusion, and I know there's something locked in her psyche that's causing her great sorrow.

Our eyes connect for five, maybe six seconds, which seems like an eternity, and then she blinks, and in that instant I dive behind one of the pillars holding up the viaduct.

I stand as still as stone with my back pressed against the cool concrete while I listen to the cacophony of voices all around me. Eventually I pick out Bella's voice as she speaks to Jay about me. He's confirming he's seen me hanging around before and he guesses I'm the culprit. By then I'm virtually screaming in frustration that I still can't listen to her thoughts, especially as I have no difficulty picking up what Jay is thinking about me, which isn't exactly charitable.

I stay hidden in the shadows until I hear their voices fading, which means they've begun to walk away from the waterfront. I stealthily slide from pillar to pillar as they stop opposite one of the side roads which leads uphill. They cross the road then walk about a hundred yards where they get into a small red car and drive off, I guess towards the Municipal Tower which is only a short distance away. I debate whether or not to follow them but decide there's no point, so I stay in the shadow of the viaduct until there's a lull in the number of people coming off the ferries and it's safe for me to dash back to my car without being spotted.

Once I'm in the Volvo I consider what to do next. I could go to the art club now and stew for the next few hours about not being able to tap into Bella's thoughts until the kids turn up to distract me, or I could try to see her again when she leaves the building to go home. I decide on the latter and drive the car back to where I'd parked this morning. I kill the next couple of hours playing games on my cell phone until five when I take up residence again on the wall of the Columbia building. Luckily in the last hour the sky's turned cloudier and already the sun is dropping towards the horizon so the surrounding tall buildings are providing adequate shade to make my skin appear normal to anyone who looks straight at me.

At just after five-thirty Bella comes out the building with a tall red-haired girl who immediately heads in the opposite direction. Once Bella's crossed Columbia, she walks along 5th Avenue at a much faster pace than this morning to the point where I first spotted her, then turns right rather than cross the junction. I jog to the corner and watch as she crosses the road further up then goes left at the next junction. For a while I'm distracted as I've caught the scent of a delicious human in the vicinity which is making venom pool in my mouth, reminding me that I need to feed, but I remain focussed on Bella, trying to keep her in sight at all times. I carry on following at a safe distance and as much as possible in the shadow of the buildings until I see her entering a small food store, which is where I decide to take a chance.

If I snuck in there, I could hide in the next aisle and be as close to her as I was able to be without her seeing me and hopefully pick up her thoughts then, so I slide through the door with another customer then wait until she's at the far end of the shop where the deli counter is situated. As she's being served, I creep down the aisle behind the same customer until I'm standing only about five feet away from her, which is when I realise the scent I noticed out on the street could possibly be hers and it's having a strange effect on me. Venom is flooding my mouth so much so that I'm having difficulty swallowing it all and I know I'm in serious trouble, but as she's chatting to the assistant I concentrate as hard as possible on the thoughts of everyone in the shop, but again I can't single hers out.

She moves to the checkout by the door and I retrace my steps along the aisle so I'm level with her, and it's then I realise that for the first time in a hundred years I'm behaving like a vampire stalking human prey. I'm still hearing nothing though and I'm becoming exasperated as this has never happened to me before. Even the Volturi can't block me even though they've tried. On top of this frustration, her scent is pushing me to the edge of my limits and it takes all my will to remain calm and in control.

As I'm mentally tearing my hair out at not being able to read Bella's mind, I realise I can see a reflection of her in one of the convex security mirrors situated on the ceiling. She's struggling with her bags of shopping and I guess she's having difficulty opening the door. I know this could be my only chance to be in touching distance of her and I've got to grab it. Even if I can't read her mind, I might be able to taste more of her scent which would be confirmation or not whether she affects me over and above other humans with scents just as delicious and tempting as hers seems to be.

As she heads towards the door I step behind her. "Let me get that for you," I say in my Italian accent as I open the door. As she thanks me, the air from outside rushes into the shop and wafts her scent all over me.

It's like I've been hit by a flaming meteor and I'm burning alive in her presence. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to attack her there and then, as I know from experience that the searing and agonisingly painful heat in my throat will only cease when I've consumed every drop of her blood. What saves her life is the proximity of several witnesses, plus a security camera pointing straight at me. The desire to drag her into the nearest alleyway and suck the life out of her is overwhelming me though, so much so that I know I've got to get away from her as quickly as possible.

I slide past her and run down the hill as fast as I can without rousing suspicion. I need to put as much distance between her and me before I do something I'll regret for the rest of my life. Once I've turned a corner and know I'm out of sight, I collapse in the first vacant shop doorway that's not in direct sunlight and curl my body into a tight ball. I pull my hood over my head and place my hands over my face and hold them there while I gain control of my senses again.

I'm in shock, I know it. No human has ever affected me like this before and I accept I'm in a desperate situation. I'd made a pledge to Carlisle and Esme never to feed from humans again, but at this precise moment the temptation to break that pledge is crushing me. I know now why Alice implied discovering this human girl existed would be dangerous for me, because the likelihood is that one of her visions was of me attacking her then not being able to live with myself afterwards, which is still a strong possibility.

My saviour is the art club. I check the time on my cell phone and see it's already gone six o'clock, which means I've got less than an hour to get back to the car, then across town to Rainier Beach and set up before the kids arrive. This focusses my mind away from Bella which is a blessing, so I drag myself up, pull my hood over my face and jog as fast as I dare back to the Volvo, hopefully without raising too many Seattle eyebrows.

I avoid the freeway and take short-cuts through the side streets, arriving at the warehouse with ten minutes to spare. Five minutes later I have all the tables erected and most of the cupboards emptied of my supplies which gives me a few minutes to relax before the kids come hurtling through the door. I text Alice to let her know what's happened and she immediately texts back and offers to come over but I tell her not to.

The kids are the distraction I need to focus my mind away from what has just occurred. Their constant requests for help and advice gives me the opportunity to calm down and get hold of myself, and by the end of the class I'm reasonably composed. The two hours have flown by, and by the time the club is deserted again and all the tables have been cleaned and put away and the floor swept and the garbage disposed of, I'm mentally exhausted. Before I load up the car with everything I prefer to take home with me, I sit on the floor of the empty warehouse and contemplate what to do about the Bella situation.

From what Alice has foreseen, Bella is the key to our plan succeeding. So however enticing her scent is to me, to feed from her before she's had the opportunity to help me would be foolishness. The problem is I might have to interact with her at some point in the future so I have to somehow be able to control myself when I'm with her. Her scent though is intoxicating and the memory of it reignites my desire to feed. I haven't hunted for over two weeks so I know I'll have to get to the forest soon or I definitely won't be able to control myself when I'm near her if I'm starving, especially if she's on her own.

I spring up from the warehouse floor, dust myself down then make my way out of the building and load up the car. It's dark by now and I can smell and taste the sea in the air which always has a calming effect on me. However, as I start the Volvo and head in the direction of home, I admit to myself that there's no way I'm not going back to the street where the store is, in the hope that her scent still lingers there. So, like an addict seeking his next fix, I hit the gas and roar away from Rainier Beach and don't stop until I'm in the heart of the city.

I park the Volvo a short distance away from the store and wander up the steep street sniffing the air every few yards. A few steps away from the store I pick up a trace of her scent, probably at the point where she no doubt stood and watched me running away from her down the hill. I take several deep breaths and the effect is probably the same as being electrocuted, as it feels as though a river of fire is flowing through my redundant veins, reaching into every extremity of my body.

When I've become accustomed to the sensation, I walk further up the street following her luscious scent like a bloodhound. The concentration remains about the same until I reach a red-brick apartment building, where all of a sudden it feels as though a volcano has exploded in my head and I know I've discovered where she lives. I greedily gulp the air, drinking in every molecule of her delicious nectar which seems to be flowing like water from the building. After a few agonising minutes I can't take any more so I stop breathing, walk a bit further up the hill and sink to the ground with my back against a wall.

The temptation to break into the building and find her apartment engulfs me, but I focus my mind on the end-game which is saving the children from the disaster which is now imminent. I hunch myself into a ball and concentrate on controlling myself, which is excruciatingly difficult as my throat is on fire and images of me drinking her blood are dancing in front of my eyes. I want her in every way and it's then I realise I'm sexually aroused as well, which shocks me as I've never linked feeding from humans with sex before.

I look up just as a police patrol car drives slowly past where I'm sitting and it's plainly obvious the two cops are watching me. It's the signal I need to leave so I spring up and dust myself off as I consider what to do next. Bella's street is one-way only, so I decide to walk in the opposite direction to the patrol car and head down the hill back to the Volvo.

As I pass the narrow alleyway between Bella's building and the next, I glance up and spot a light on in the window of one of the top apartments. A drape has just been dragged across one side and somehow I just know she's there. A second later she appears at the window with her hand on the other drape and I see her jump with shock when she spots me. It takes all my strength to carry on walking away from temptation and once I get to the bottom of the hill, I run faster than any human could ever do so I can get away from her and the overwhelming desire to feed which is slowly consuming me.

When I get back to the Volvo I'm surprised to find Alice there leaning against the trunk with a knowing look on her face. I don't say anything but fall into her arms and cling on to her as though she's a life raft in a raging sea. When I've calmed down, Alice brushes my hair away from my eyes then grabs both my arms as though she's going to shake some sense into me, but instead she comes out with the five words I really need to hear.

"Edward, you have to hunt."

* * *

 **Oh dear! Edward has got it bad, but Alice did warn him that this whole situation would be dangerous for him. He's obviously made some sort of pledge to Carlisle and Esme not to attack humans, but all of us who've been to Weight Watchers knows what temptation feels like. _(Go on - one cookie (human) won't make much difference)!_**

 **Next time, he goes back to the football mural and eventually ends up in her apartment while she's sleeping. You'll find out the _real_ reasons why he was in both places then, even though right now it seems obvious it's just because he fancies her (and wants to eat her).**

 **Thanks for all your guesses about 1564. Michelangelo's death is leading the field at the moment so it's obvious you've all been checking up on Google. Marvellous stuff!**

 **Joan xx**


	17. Chapter 17

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

* * *

 **Tuesday 25th April**

At this time of night it only takes us just over an hour to drive to the outskirts of Mount Rainier National Park, where we leave the car near a tourist information centre and run into the forest. It isn't the best time of year to be hunting for elk or other large animals, but there are always small herds of black-tailed deer in the area which will sustain us; that's if we can find them of course. If not there are always the goats, but we would only hunt those if we were desperate.

Fortunately it takes us no time at all to find a suitable sized herd and after we've fed we run up the slopes of the volcano through the forested area until we reach the bare scree. There we lie on our backs for the rest of the night, staring up at the stars wheeling above us and going over what happened this evening. After talking about our shared experiences with our significant humans, it's obvious my reaction to Bella had been a hundred times more intense than what Alice felt when she met Jasper for the first time, in that she didn't experience a burning compulsion to feed from him like I did with Bella. I described the effect her scent had on me was at first like being shocked by electricity, then being burnt alive when I received the full, undiluted version. Alice described her experience as being more like a strong magnetic attraction which she found almost impossible to pull away from.

I can tell Alice is concerned for me as she holds my hand all the time we're talking, probably hoping that her empathy for my situation will flow to me through her fingertips. We've been doing a lot of hand-holding lately which is strange, as neither of us were touchy-feely people before.

I'm still confused about my feelings for Bella as I still don't _know_ her. I'm also attempting to get my head around the fact that I can't tap into her thoughts, which is extraordinary. Alice suggested that maybe my overwhelming physical attraction to her is affecting my other senses, but I can't accept this explanation. I knew I'd be attracted to her when Alice showed me her image through her thoughts, and this was confirmed when I first saw her from a distance, but it wasn't until I _really_ tasted her scent that my senses became dangerously overloaded.

When dawn starts to turn the sky pink over Rainier's peak, we run back to the car and drive home in silence. I'm debating what to do today; in other words I'm trying to decide whether to camp outside her office building and follow her if she goes out during the day, or just leave her be. As I park the car in the drive I notice Alice is in one of her trance-like states again, so I sit with her until she comes back to the real world. She smiles at me and taps me on my hand.

"I'm not certain, but I think Bella will be in the city today looking at your murals. I suggest you choose one of them to hang around and you should see her again; that's if you feel it's safe of course."

I nod my head and stare into her golden eyes. "I'll be fine," I reply, hoping she wouldn't see through my lie.

I can't be bothered emptying the Volvo of my art club supplies so walk into the house with Alice, where we're greeted by Carlisle and Esme who've obviously been waiting for us.

"Where have you two been?" Carlisle asks in an accusing tone.

"Hunting!" we both say in unison then Alice elaborates. "We've been up Mount Rainier looking at the stars. I've been giving Edward an astronomy lesson. You can see Jupiter and Saturn at the moment really easily without a telescope."

"Fascinating!" Carlisle replies somewhat facetiously then he hesitates for a few seconds before saying, "There's something going on with you two, I know it. I might not be able to read minds like you, Edward, but I'm pretty fly at knowing when things aren't right. If you're keeping something from me ... from _us_ , I'll be seriously disappointed with both of you. Understand?"

"Yes Carlisle," we both reply, but inside I'm praying Alice will hold her nerve for just a bit longer.

"I need a shower," Alice trills and heads for the stairs.

"Me too," I say and follow her, but I can feel Carlisle's eyes boring into my back as I shoot up the steps three at a time.

Once in my room I tear my clothes off and switch on the shower in the bathroom. I can hear Alice's thoughts as clear as if she were standing right next to me. She's angry with me for putting her in a position where she's deceiving Carlisle, then angry with herself for agreeing to help me. Waves of guilt are washing over her as she thinks about Carlisle and Esme's reaction when we eventually tell them what's going to happen. She can see the future, but she still can't predict how this is going to turn out for us as a family.

I stand under the steaming cascade and wash the stench of dead deer from my body. As I massage shower gel into my skin, I imagine touching Bella like this and I'm immediately aroused at the thought of sharing a shower with her. My dick is aching like hell, so I wrap my hand around it as the fantasy develops further until the whole 'sex in the shower' scenario unfolds. I imagine lifting her up then wrapping her smooth slim legs around my hips, and as her back hits the shower wall I slam into her thrusting hard. I can hear her mewling in my ear as I pump my dick vigorously into her, and as my seed leaves my body I collapse backwards against the wall behind me as she disappears from my arms like a phantom. I sink to the floor and curl up in a ball as the water pummels my scalp, and I silently scream with frustration at the situation I've found myself in.

I've been on the shower floor for ages and the water is already running cold when I'm pulled back to the real world by someone thumping on my bedroom door. I get up immediately; switch the shower off and after wrapping a towel around me, pad across the room to open the door to the angry person who's disturbed my indulgent wallow in self-pity. I know before opening the door that it's Alice, and for some reason she's mad. She pushes me with two hands back into my room then slams the door behind her.

"What's up?" I ask as she looks furious.

"Why did you paint her face on the football mural?" she hisses accusingly. "What the hell were you thinking of? Do you really want to frighten the life out of her? That's such a creepy thing to do."

I'm speechless for a moment as I genuinely hadn't considered that Bella might freak out when she sees herself in the crowd, especially as I don't _know_ her yet so have no idea how she's going to react when she realises she's being presented with the unexplainable. I immediately accept Alice is right as it was a crass and stupid thing to do. It's also plain that I need to get back there and right my wrong before she sees it.

"Jeez; I'm an idiot," I reply and grab handfuls of my hair which is what I do when I'm stressed. "That was senseless. I'll go there now and change it before she has a chance to see it. How did you know anyway?" I ask curiously.

"I took loads of photos when I went there with Rosalie and saw Jasper. I've just been looking at them, well actually looking at _him_ again to be honest. I spotted her in the crowd. Moron!"

I push her out the door saying. "If you let me get dressed I'll go now and Bella will be none the wiser."

Alice huffs at me as I close the door but she carries on mentally calling me every derogatory name she can think of while she stomps back to her room.

I splash lotion on my face and hands then fling on my painting uniform of sweatpants and hooded jacket and head for the stairs, then go back to the room to get my Wayfarers. When my eyes are a bright golden color like they are at the moment, I prefer to wear glasses as I don't like wearing contacts in the daylight unless I have to. I run down the stairs and just as I reach the outside door leading to our driveway, Carlisle calls for me to stop. I'm itching to carry on walking as though I haven't heard him but I physically cannot disobey a direct command from him; it's almost like this is _his_ special ability but it's one he only uses sparingly.

"What's up?" I ask as calmly as possible.

"Nothing, it's just that I need your help over in the main workshop with the new Riva. I'm going there now, so could you give Emmett and me a hand turning the boat over then moving it into the water."

Even though Carlisle said the word 'could', this is not a request, it's an order. I say, "Sure" in response and reluctantly follow him across the lawn knowing time is ticking away. A short delay is fine though as Bella doesn't start work for another half hour so I'll still have plenty of time to get into the city. As long as this task doesn't take much longer than fifteen minutes or so I should be okay.

When we get to the boathouse Emmett isn't there and I can't pick up his thoughts anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Carlisle and I are both super-strong, but it would still need three of us to lift the upturned boat from the stand and set it in the water without damaging it. I offer to go and look for him and shoot back across the lawn before Carlisle can stop me. I search the house and then the grounds but can't find him or Rosalie anywhere and I also can't pick up their thoughts. In the end I come across Esme and ask her if she's seen him.

"He's still hunting with Rosalie," Esme replies. "He should've been back by now to help Carlisle. I'll send him over to you as soon as I see him."

I consider asking Alice to help but just as I'm going back in the house, I hear the Porsche revving up outside then the wheels spinning as it roars down the drive, so that's a non-starter. I know Carlisle wouldn't ask Esme to help, so it's a case of trying to convince Carlisle to do this later on.

I run back to the boathouse to tell Carlisle Emmett is out and suggest moving the boat this afternoon. Not a chance. When Carlisle has his mind set on doing something, a herd of rampaging rhinoceroses isn't going to stop him.

"What's the emergency?" he asks with one eyebrow raised, and I don't need to tap into his thoughts; I can hear the suspicion in his voice.

I rack my brains for a reason, but no plausible excuse comes to mind instantly so I have to take it on the chin and wait for Emmett to return.

He strolls in an hour and a half later and seeing the satisfied look on his face and reading his x-rated thoughts, I know exactly why he spent so much time in the forest with Rosalie, and it has nothing to do with hunting deer. We have the boat in the water in less than five minutes, after which I nonchalantly stroll across the lawn towards the house so as not to rouse any suspicions that I'm desperate to be somewhere else, leaving Carlisle and Emmett to check the boat over. As soon as I'm out of sight I run like a bat out of hell to the Volvo and head at top speed towards the city.

By the time I reach CenturyLink Field it's nearly eleven. I sling the car in a parking space about two hundred yards away from the mural, put my Wayfarers on then grab my bag of art club paints from the trunk and jog towards the wall which is on the opposite side of a busy road junction. I know I'm risking being spotted painting in broad daylight but I've got no alternative and it should only take a couple of minutes to obliterate her face and paint another one. As I wait for the signal to cross, I search the area for her distinctive red car but thankfully draw a blank.

The signal is taking an age to change so I glance up and down the street to see whether I can spot a gap in the traffic so I can dash across. As I look right I do a double-take as Bella's car is coming into view. She slows down to turn left then stops in a queue of traffic while she waits for the chance to cross. She's just starting to move again when she spots me staring at her and immediately hits the brake, coming to a halt right in the middle of the junction. I don't know how the guy behind avoids hitting her but it's a miracle there isn't an accident.

She's staring straight at me open-mouthed then her eyes drop and I can tell she's trying to undo her seatbelt. I use the opportunity to turn away and dash in the opposite direction where I hide behind a conveniently parked delivery truck. Several car horns are tooting by now and I guess Bella is being 'encouraged' to move her car off the junction. As I wait for the opportunity to run, I curse Emmett for delaying me. Now Bella will no doubt get the shock of her life which is totally down to my crass stupidity and thoughtlessness.

I can't leave though. I need to witness her reaction when she sees herself, even though I guess she's going to be stunned. While she's parking her car I jog along the sidewalk keeping my head down until I reach an alleyway between two old warehouse-type buildings that overlook the stadium. I leave my bag of paints behind a dumpster and scale the wall like a spider then take up position on a flat roof overlooking the mural. From my vantage point I can see both the mural and Bella's car which she's parked further up the street.

She doesn't get out her car for a while which makes me wonder whether she's calling Jay, but eventually her door opens and she clambers out clutching an oversized purse. She crosses the street and slowly walks towards the mural, but every few steps she stops and looks around her and I know she's searching for me. When she gets closer to the wall she pulls her camera out and starts taking photos until she's too near to get the whole mural in the frame.

For a while she takes it all in with her eyes rather than the camera lens and I freeze as I'm expecting her to spot herself in the crowd. She moves closer but walks in the opposite direction to her image and starts taking close-up photos every two or three yards, moving from the left towards the centre where she takes several pictures of the dense cluster of players, then continues until she reaches the critical spot.

I watch her body jump as though she's been bitten. She's plainly spotted herself in the crowd, but frustratingly I can't see her facial reaction. It's like she's frozen to the spot as she doesn't move an inch for about ten seconds, then she slowly lowers her camera and takes a step backwards where she again stands absolutely still as she absorbs what's in front of her. Eventually she moves forward and carefully touches the spot where her face is, so I guess she's checking whether I've over-painted an original face, which would give her the reason why I was here today.

She holds her finger up then steps backwards one step then another and another. I don't need to see her face to know what I've done to her because I can see her hand shaking from up here which absolutely crushes me.

Alice was right – I'm a complete and utter moron, and a creep, and a fool, and every other derogatory name she was calling me as I pushed her out of my room.

I want to jump off the roof and rush over to Bella to explain, but what can I say to her at this point? Also, even though I've fed, I may not be able to control myself being so close to her even though it's broad daylight and a busy area. I know I've got to make amends somehow and I wrack my guilt-ridden brain how to do this without being discovered. As I leap off the roof to collect my bag of paints I have an idea.

From the alleyway I watch her talking on the phone and I guess she's probably telling Jay what's happened, but I can't hear her conversation to confirm this as the traffic noise is masking her voice. So while she has her back to me I race to the Volvo, sling my paints on the passenger seat and head towards downtown and the Municipal building. I park the car on Columbia, grab my bag and make my way to the entrance of the underground parking lot where I spot an elderly security guard on duty checking cars driving in and out. I wait for a few minutes until he's distracted by a truck driver asking where he can drop off some packages, then I literally dash past him so fast he doesn't see me, or if he did he wouldn't understand what he actually witnessed.

I wander through the cars and empty spaces sniffing the air until I pick up Bella's scent on the farthest side of the lot. It doesn't take me long to find where she parks as the ground is drenched with her tantalizing fragrance. Luckily her spot has a plain concrete wall directly behind it otherwise I would have had to do what I plan to do on the nearest pillar or somewhere near the elevator shaft. I check to see whether I'm being watched, but thankfully this end of the lot is deserted apart from a couple of noisy pigeons making a nest, so I open my bag, pull out a clean pallet and a selection of paints and get started.

The wall is surprisingly clean so I set about drawing the outline of a beautiful swan to honor her name. After finishing it to my satisfaction, from memory I copy one of Monet's water lily paintings, surrounding the swan with a garden of these elegant flowers floating on eau de nil colored water. I finish the lilies, the pond and the background before I start filling in the swan, leaving her sparkling eye and bright orange bill until last.

I step back to take in the effect but the water looks cold to me and I want the picture to glow for her. I select some tubes of red and yellow paint and with my fingertips smudge tiny touches of color into the water to give the effect that it's mirroring a sunrise or sunset then step back again to assess the result. I'm happy, so I wrap my paints and pallet in cling film and pack up. As I walk away I hope and pray that she loves my effort, which is my gift to her to make up for shocking her today but I'm not going to hang around to watch her reaction this time. I leave the lot the same way I came in by rushing past the guard while he's distracted, then make my way home.

I'm expecting to get a grilling from Alice as soon as I walk through the door but she's not at home. I dump my bag in my studio then head for my room, feeling relieved I don't have to face her for the moment. However I know that no amount of ear bashing from her can alter the fact that Bella is now aware I know her name, what she looks like and where she works, and she'll believe I knew all of this before she set foot in Seattle.

* * *

I spend the early part of the evening on the water with the whole family. We take out _Lugano,_ which is Carlisle's spectacularly beautiful ocean-going yacht, and sail up the Sound and around the islands until the sun begins to sink below the horizon. I should be enjoying myself as the weather is perfect and the sea is challenging; also it's possibly the last time we'll sail these waters together as a family for a very long time, if ever, but my thoughts turn constantly to Bella and her current state of mind and, more worryingly, the realisation that time is starting to run out.

I need Bella to take the crucial next step, which is to believe that I'm sending the city a message in my murals. The only good thing about her seeing her face today, is that she must surely be wondering how I painted her image before she came to Seattle, and this would hopefully encourage her to question the meaning behind the subjects in my other murals. Other than writing, "I'm predicting the future – please believe me," on the front of her apartment building and consequently displaying to the world there's a psychic head-case in Seattle, I can't think of any way to do more.

After I've helped Carlisle secure the yacht in her berth, hosed her down with fresh water and put her covers on, I return to the house and spend the rest of the evening relaxing and watching TV with the family. Alice is blocking me again but I guess the reason is she's still mad at me for shocking Bella and not because she's hiding anything from me.

At midnight Carlisle and Esme announce they're going to the park to hunt so would be gone all night. Alice states she wants to star-gaze again and is taking the telescope to a dark spot about twenty miles from here. So after picking up a begging vibe from Emmett, I agree to make myself scarce so that he and Rosalie can have the house to themselves, even though they've already had some x-rated fun in the forest this morning. I mouth, "You owe me," at Emmett and get a broad grin in return.

I toy with the idea of driving to one of the lakes and having a run, but I know I'm kidding myself as I need to taste her scent again, like an alcoholic needs whiskey to survive. I jump in the Volvo and drive like a maniac until I'm parked in her street opposite her alleyway. As soon as I leave the car I can smell her all around me and I'm instantly aware that venom is pooling in my mouth again. The knowledge that she's probably on her own in her room and not out on the street like today, ups the temptation level to critical and I accept I'm in trouble again.

I slide back in the car, close the door and grip the steering wheel as I concentrate on controlling myself as the urge to attack is overpowering me again, but I'm determined to fight this. I could just drive away, but this would be an admission of defeat. Instead I open the car windows a fraction, slump down in my seat in case a police patrol car drives past and stay there for the next three hours drinking in the air while my mind and body becomes accustomed to her scent. By four o'clock in the morning I feel sufficiently desensitised to be able to get out the car and stretch my legs, but even though the temptation is still there, _I'm_ in control, not my instincts.

Her apartment has been in darkness the whole time and I've been imagining her tucked up in bed, totally oblivious to the fact that a dangerous, desperate vampire has been fighting the urge to kill her while she slept. As I've watched her window, I've also been contemplating what I could do to make her think laterally about my murals. I accept that a rational person wouldn't even consider anyone could genuinely predict the future, as it's the stuff of fantasy novels, but I need her to start believing _I_ can. Seattle is going to be hit by a minor earthquake this weekend and I'm counting on this event to be the trigger which will put her on the path to acceptance, but I can't count on it.

I'm tempted to write her a message, but pushing a slip of paper with something like this under her door is too obvious. _'_

 _Dear Bella, I really can predict the future, _

_Best wishes from t_ _he Weirdo you keep seeing, who fucked-up big-time today.'_

I have to do something else; something bold, and the idea comes to me in a flash. If I just wrote the word 'Believe' where only she can see it, she'd know it was meant for her and what I'm asking her to do, which is to trust her instincts. Also, and more importantly, the word would mean absolutely nothing to anyone else who saw it.

I run back to the car, choose some brushes and a small selection of colors from my painting bag, tip them into the smaller bag I used when I was painting the Aquarium mural, then sling it across my back. Luckily the road is deserted of cars and pedestrians and it's also fortunate there's a street light illuminating the wall I'm going to work on. My eyesight in the dark is way better than any night-vision goggles the military have invented as yet, but I still need a modicum of light to work with and without the lamp post illuminating the alleyway, the wall opposite her window would be in total darkness.

The brick wall is easy to scale as it's old and knobbly, so I fly up the side of the building until I'm on a level with Bella's window. I place the paints on the ledge which I can just reach and quickly chalk an outline of the letters then fill them in with a mixture of bright neon colors to ensure she doesn't miss it when she opens the drapes. While I'm up there her scent is driving me insane, but I manage to stay focussed on what I'm doing, even though the temptation to leap through her window is torturing me. When I'm satisfied with my efforts, I drop to the ground and hurry back to the car. It's getting light by now so I figure Emmett and Rosalie will be suitably exhausted from their activities so it should be safe to go home.

I get in before Carlisle and Esme and go straight to my room. Alice has already returned and I can tell she's meditating as she's imagining floating down a gently flowing stream as it winds through fields of wild flowers towards a colourful sunrise blazing in the distance. It's a tranquil image but it does nothing to ease the tension I'm feeling from being away from Bella's scent. Emmett and Rosalie's thoughts are totally x-rated and I successfully tune these out by thinking about Bella, in the shower!

 **Wednesday 26th April**

I'm determined to keep myself busy during the day so in the morning I offer to help Carlisle with one of the Sunseekers he's working on. In the afternoon we deliver a small yacht that Carlisle has finished restoring to its new home on Bainbridge Island. Emmett drives Carlisle's Range Rover into Seattle then gets the ferry over so he can pick us up after we've handed the keys over to the new owner and completed all the transfer documents. Without our miracle lotion and contact lenses, this sort of business transaction would have been impossible for us a few years ago. Now we can behave like normal humans without fear of discovery and I can't begin to describe how liberated this makes us feel.

In the evening I go for a run in the local woods. Because I've just fed I don't need to hunt so I just enjoy being amongst the trees and listening to the sound of nature all around me. It's late Spring, so the deciduous trees which grow in patches amongst the evergreens are bursting into life and I'm surrounded by hundreds of different shades of green. The smell of new growth is like the best vitamin drink ever invented and as I run, I think back to the centuries I spent in Europe, the seasons I've lived through and the changes I've seen happen to the many different landscapes I've lived in. Now I'm residing in a relatively young country which still possesses untouched ancient forests and spectacular areas of protected wilderness, and for me it's like being young again.

As I'm running, I try to recall when I first heard people speak of the 'New World' which had been officially 'discovered' by Columbus at the end of the fifteenth century, not imagining for one moment I would ever live here. Sea crossings at the time were perilous, and for our kind impossible because they took so long, so leaving Europe was something I'd never considered. Also, America, as it was called even then, was a cultural desert. The thought of voluntarily walking away from civilized Europe; a continent which revered its artists and musicians, and to leave behind cities filled with magnificent buildings and universities and their citizens who were cultured and well educated, was inconceivable. How the world had changed in my lifetime?

I'd been in this vast forest many times before but tonight I've strayed into an area that seems new to me. I'm running up a low gradient and the trees seem closer together which slows me down somewhat. Even though it's dark under the canopy, my superior vision means I can still see clearly ahead, so when I burst through the trees and see a wide expanse of star-studded sky above me it takes me by surprise. By the time I've slowed to an absolute stop, I find myself in the middle of a wide open space lit only by starlight. I look around me and it's as if someone has drawn an exact circle in the middle of the forest and removed every tree or sapling within its boundary, leaving behind a thick carpet of long grass and wild flowers. Above me the stars are shining brilliantly in the moonless sky and using only their light, I can just make out the colors of the flowers in the gloom which are a mixture of white, purple and yellow. If I believed in them, which I don't, this is definitely a place where fairies would hang out.

I collapse on my back and sink into the damp, sweet-smelling grass so I can stare up at the heavens for a while. Alice has shown me how to find some of the constellations over the years but the stars tonight are so dense it's impossible to pick out even the most familiar patterns. I can single out the planets as they aren't blinking, but apart from the occasional satellite, or a plane traversing the sky, all I can see are millions of anonymous stars shining out against the blackness. Unlike Alice, I've only had a passing interest in the night sky, but I recall sneaking into the back of a meeting hall in Florence where the astronomer, Galileo, was speaking. I was hoping to learn about the moon and the stars, but this particular night he was trying to convince a group of his peers that the sun was the centre of the universe, not the Earth. Not long after he was accused by the Church of heresy, even though the evidence he presented to anyone who listened, unquestionably supported his argument. Now Galileo is revered as the founder of modern science and I was there at the start of it, but alas I cannot talk to anyone about him, or any of the other giants of history I rubbed shoulders with who were around at the time.

The forest is silent apart from a light breeze disturbing the upper branches of the trees, and as I lie there watching the galaxy wheeling above me, I think about Bella and wonder how her day has gone, and whether she told Jay about the word I painted on the wall during the previous night. I was desperate to see her again and to try one last time to tap into her thoughts, even though I'm reluctantly starting to accept it's hopeless. I ponder what sort of psychological barrier she has which is enabling her to block me, but I still can't believe any human can do that. There are one or two members of the Volturi who do have that skill but they have to actively persist by concentrating solely on blocking me; in other words they can't do it naturally. Even Alice can only _mask_ her thoughts from me. I can still see into her overloaded and completely hyper-active brain when she's trying to keep something from me which I know irritates the hell out of her.

If Bella does have some sort of barrier, I wonder whether it's as effective when she's sleeping. I realise then that when I was outside her window I hadn't attempted to read her mind; I was too busy concentrating on hanging onto the wall and painting the word before I was spotted. The possibility that her mind might be more accessible when she was asleep hadn't occurred to me until now.

I sit up in the long grass knowing I won't be satisfied until I try one more time to connect with her. By now I've lost track of how long I've been in the forest but there's still no evidence of morning in the night sky so I figure I have some time left to try. I jump to my feet and race back through the trees, following my own scent until I reach the edge of the forest where I entered. I debate whether to return to the house so I can get the car and drive into the city but I know I'll be quicker on foot, especially if I follow the coastal road which should be almost deserted this time of night.

I reach her apartment building less than half an hour later and scale the wall to the window furthest from the street which was where she spotted me from on Monday night. I hang onto the window ledge and listen to the sounds coming from her room but all I can hear is her gentle, steady breathing and nothing else.

I try pushing the sash window upwards but it's locked or stuck, so I carefully clamber towards the adjacent window which is nearer to the street and try that one. Success! It's closed but not locked so I gingerly push it up from the bottom and open it far enough for me to slide through. Unfortunately getting in proves difficult as the kitchen sink is directly in front of the window. As I climb through the gap, trying to avoid some plates and mugs which are piled up on the counter, the faucet becomes caught in my clothes. As I slide onto the floor, the water gushes into the sink for a brief second and I freeze on the spot as I listen for any changes to Bella's breathing, but it remains constant so I figure I've got away with it.

My senses are on fire as I drink in her scent, like an alcoholic who's been on the wagon for years and is now sniffing the finest brandy ever invented. I stay in the kitchen for I don't know how long; hanging on to the counter while I bring myself under control. My mouth is dripping with venom by now which I soak up using the sleeves of my hoodie, and as my own senses calm I admit to myself that if I hadn't recently fed, I wouldn't have been able to control myself.

Bella's dreams, if she is dreaming, are steadfastly staying in her head and I finally have to accept that her thoughts will always be a mystery to me. I ponder whether this is actually a good thing, because if she is my soul-mate like Alice claims and one day she becomes a vampire like me, if I could constantly read her thoughts, this would make our partnership one-sided. She would never be able to relax with me knowing that I knew what was in her head.

My question had been answered so there's now no need for me to stay any longer, but of course I can't leave yet. I'm curious to see what she looks like when she's sleeping, and this in itself confirms Alice's description of me when she calls me a creep. I take hold of myself, then slink into her room and stand as far away as possible from her. If she woke suddenly and spotted me, I guess I'd have a few seconds to hide before she starts believing what her eyes are telling her.

I thought I'd prepared myself, but seeing Bella with her eyes closed and her hair spread over the pillows unmans me and I can't help crying out which upsets her breathing pattern for just a few seconds. She's beautiful, serene, exquisite, and perfectly feminine; in fact she's every complimentary adjective I can think of. I watch, enraptured, as her eyelids quiver and her mouth twitches; too minutely for a human to notice but easy for me to see and I can clearly tell she's dreaming about something which makes her happy.

Time ticks by and I'm reluctant to leave her. A hundred different emotions are tumbling through my mind as I watch her. She's flawless apart from the fact she's human. I want her but I can't have her. I know Emmett had been in 'relationships' with human women before he rescued Rosalie, but he didn't care for them; it was just sex to him. I'm positive I wouldn't be able to have sex with Bella without either killing or changing her and this is my dilemma.

Of course she might not want me; which was a possibility, but most humans find it difficult to resist a vampire's charms. I certainly didn't want to seduce her. If we were going to be together I wanted her to love me naturally and not just be mesmerized by me. But I was getting ahead of myself; I couldn't start thinking of her this way as nothing good could come of it.

I'm completely wrapped up in my thoughts when I suddenly realise Bella's breathing pattern has changed; in fact she's practically stopped breathing altogether. Her eyelids are half-open and I can see the whites of her eyes slowly getting brighter then they snap shut completely. I'm rooted to the spot, like a bird in front of a snake, so I keep absolutely still until her breathing returns to normal.

I'm thinking she's dropped off again and I know I must leave now, but without warning she opens her eyes fully and pulls her head away from the pillow, half sitting up on her elbow. Her eyes dart from one side of the room to the other until she locks onto my eyes and holds me in her gaze for three, possibly four seconds, and then she blinks. In that moment I dive towards the kitchen, spring onto the sink and I'm out the window probably before she has a chance to realise I've left the room. I hang onto the ledge while I carefully close the window then drop noiselessly to the ground.

Even though it's killing me to leave her, I run at vampire-speed down the hill until I'm outside the range of her scent and I keep running until I've reached the safety of the sea, but this time there's no Alice there to comfort me.

* * *

 **So he was having a final shot at trying to read her mind when he was in her apartment, but he's given up now as he's had to accept that Bella's mind is closed to him. Alice was really mad at him for painting Bella's face on the wall, but he was right in thinking his error of judgement might be what makes Bella start to try and make sense of the unexplainable, and hopefully set her on the path to look for the motives behind the subjects of his murals.**

 **Next time the weekend has arrived, and we all remember what happens when Bella goes home to Forks. For you bloodthirsty lot out there, you'll certainly enjoy what's going to happen to our least-favorite character (sorry Jacob fans but you're in the minority here). If you don't like violence, (it's not too gory), I suggest you skip over this part of the chapter, but please read the rest, as this is where Carlisle has to become involved with what's going on. Oh shoot!**

 **Joan xx**


	18. Chapter 18

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

* * *

"You stupid, irresponsible, brainless idiot," I silently scream as I breathe in my first gulps of Bella-free air. "She's probably terrified of you by now, you fucking moron. What on earth where you thinking?"

I shake my head from side to side and push my knuckles into my eyes as I recall when she caught me staring at her in bed, but my guilt cannot be dislodged so easily and her shocked face is now burning itself into my memory. I ask myself again; "What the hell possessed you to stay, when you could've just taken one look at her and left, and she would've been none the wiser?"

The answer to this question is obviously that my growing obsession with Bella Swan is forcing me to take risks I would never have contemplated taking at any time during the many centuries I've walked on this earth. I know I should've left when I saw the whites of her eyes, but I didn't. I stayed, watching her; relishing the fact that for once I had her all to myself.

It's as if part of my subconscious was actually hoping she'd wake up and catch me, but when she did wake, the other part of my subconscious didn't have the courage to stay put, apologise profusely and accept the consequences. I cannot imagine what Bella must be thinking or doing right now, and I have to accept there's a good chance she'll have called 911 the moment she worked out I wasn't in the apartment. I hadn't heard any sirens heading in her direction, but then it's still early in the morning and the roads are relatively quiet, so any squad cars racing to the scene wouldn't have to barge through traffic to get to her.

While I'm sitting on the sea wall in Waterfront Park, mentally beating myself with chains because of what I've just done, it's evident now the city behind me is starting to come back to life. The Seattle residents who are still in bed will soon be waking to another day of blissful ignorance of what's about to happen to their beloved city, and as I look around me I try to imagine what this waterfront will look like in less than ten days' time. It's not a pleasant image, which makes me feel even more depressed.

The air is chilly and the stars have disappeared from the sky so dawn must be approaching. Without looking at my phone I guess it must be somewhere between five and six o'clock as the area is getting busier, which means I've only got a small amount of time before I have to get out of sight. Even though I'm some way away from Pike Place Market, I can easily hear traders shouting to one another as they set up their stalls for the day. All kinds of produce is being offloaded from their noisy, diesel-guzzling trucks which are now starting to line up behind me in Western Avenue, and even from this distance I can pick up the pungent smell of dead meat and freshly-caught fish which makes me want to gag. This unpleasant stench is occasionally masked by the sweeter fragrance of flowers being delivered to the numerous florist stalls which greet visitors as they enter the market, and this gives me an idea what to do about the Bella situation. I've got to say sorry to her somehow and prove this time that I really mean it.

I jog to the market where I find a very helpful florist who's setting up her stall. After I've given her a sob story about breaking up with my girlfriend, she makes up an enormous bouquet of sweet-smelling pink carnations in water for me, and when I tell her what I want to do, she gives me a dozen loose ones for free and a ball of twine. She also provides a plain white card with an envelope, and after I've written Bella a grovelling apology, she attaches the card to a stalk and inserts it amongst the flowers. Luckily I have my credit card with me or I'd have to resort to 'grand-theft-florist' and make a too-fast-for-a-human run for it.

By the time I'm back on the street I know I don't have much time before the sun is too high in the sky for me to do what I want to do. I've been out since last night so my skin is lotion-free by now and in less than an hour I'll look like an over the top Christmas tree. At least I had my contact lenses with me so I didn't frighten the florist with my golden eyes.

I dash back to Bella's apartment and after checking the street for police cars, I tie one of the single carnations to the lamp post opposite her alley. As I'm doing this I glance up at her window and notice her drapes are already open and the light is on, even though it isn't anywhere near six o'clock yet. I wonder whether she tried to spot me after what happened an hour or so ago and then couldn't get back to sleep, which makes me feel even more guilty.

I jog to the next corner and do the same with the first post in the street then carry on until I reach the Municipal tower. I consider leaving the flowers on her car, but decide they would be safer if I managed to get them onto her desk somehow, even though questions might be asked as to why I need to apologise to her, especially by Jay. The automatic doors to the building are locked, but I spot a security guard sitting at the reception desk so I tap on the glass and hold the bouquet high in the air for him to see. Luckily he's curious so he wanders over unhurriedly and shouts through the glass.

"What do you want?" he asks.

"Can I leave these for a member of staff?" I shout. "Her name's Bella Swan; she works in Utilities."

The guy opens the door with a wide grin on his face. "What you done wrong, sonny? Fight with the girlfriend; is that what this is?"

"Something like that," I reply sheepishly. "Can you make sure she gets them this morning, please?"

"I'm going off at seven," he replies still grinning, "But I'll make sure they get sent up to her floor. I hope she's worth it."

"She definitely is," I reply.

I hand them over and after he locks the door again, I watch him as he carefully balances the bouquet on the reception desk and writes a note to go with them. I have to trust that he'll make sure Bella gets them and I hope this gesture will go some way to making up for my glaring stupidity.

It's fully light now and Seattle is waking up to a dangerously bright morning. Even though the sun is low in the sky, it's already glinting off the sides of the buildings so I'd be taking a serious risk of being spotted if I left the safety of the shadows, which means I'll have to be extra careful when I'm running home. My only other option is to call someone at the house and get them to pick me up. I try Alice first who agrees to come immediately.

While I wait for Alice to arrive, I reassess my long-held belief that Alice's psychic ability is the most appalling gift to possess, because I now realise my ability to read minds is infinitely worse. I'd never been truly in love before, but if that ever happened to me, being able to read the mind of the person you adore in every way would take the mystery and magic away from the relationship. I'm thinking about spontaneity and surprise; of hearing words spoken to you which you'd already heard her prepare in her mind, nano-seconds before she uttered them. Even intimacy could never be satisfactory; I knew that from experience. Knowing what your sexual partner is thinking about you while you're in bed is seriously off-putting and was the primary reason I ended many relationships. I accepted then that Bella is probably the only woman on earth, human or vampire, I could have a normal life with, and this devastating reality totally depresses me.

I stay in the shadows until Alice roars up in the Porsche about twenty minutes later. I slide into the passenger seat and turn to say 'thank you', but her thoughts are, _"Don't you say a fucking word to me, asshole!"_

"Jeez, what have I done now?" I exclaim out loud.

 _"I can smell her on you, Edward,"_ she thinks _. "It's not even seven in the morning; you've been in her apartment, haven't you?"_

"Yes."

"Did you kill her?" she now says out loud.

"Obviously not, or my eyes would be red."

"Then why the fuck did you break into her apartment?"

"To read her mind, Alice; I thought she'd be more susceptible to my ability when she was asleep."

"Well, was she?"

"No."

"Ha!"

"It's not funny; it's fucking frustrating."

"Bella Swan; Super-Woman. I want to shake her by the hand. The one and only human or vampire that Edward Cullen cannot read."

As the Porsche roars through the rapidly filling streets on the way back to the house, and while Alice is fuming and I'm sulking, something occurs to me.

"How the hell do you know what Bella Swan smells like, Alice?"

I hear her thinking, _"Oh fuck!"_ and then I see in her mind a picture of Bella with Jay looking at my murals, which was probably straight after Bella had seen herself on the football mural and when I was painting the swan.

"You've been stalking Jay, you two-faced bitch," I exclaim.

"Do you want to run the rest of the way home, asshole?"

"Don't you asshole me. You're just as bad as I am."

"Errr no. I haven't been climbing through Jasper's window while he's been sleeping, you pervert."

I'm about to snap back with another cutting remark but the ridiculousness of the situation slaps me in the face and I start to laugh. I look over to Alice who is trying to look pissed, but in the end her face cracks into a smile then she starts laughing too.

"I'm sorry," Alice says when she's calmed down. "I shouldn't be angry with you. Both of us don't know what the fuck to do about all this. We've got to deal with the end of the world plus falling in love for the first time on top. Some asshole has it in for us at the moment."

"Are you in love?" I ask as my emotions are still upside down where Bella's concerned and I'm amazed she's said the word. I'm definitely 'in lust' but until I speak to Bella I can't admit to being in love though.

"I don't know," she replies with a sigh. "I can't get past the fact that Jasper's human; in other words unavailable."

"Yeah," I agree. "Having morals sucks!"

She laughs at my comment but I can see her imagining staging a car wreck when Bella and Jasper are in her car together so we could 'save' them.

"Absolutely not," I growl. "Any relationship built on any type of deceit is doomed to failure, even if it's done with the best intentions."

"Spoilsport," she giggles.

We're soon at the house and I'm as tired as any vampire can be as I'd been out all night. I just want to be on my own for a while and contemplate what my next move is going to be. Time is definitely running out and next week will be the absolute deadline for her to realise what's going on so she can take action. Therefore I have to take the final decision on how I'm going to impart the devastating information to her so she could get her superiors to act.

* * *

 **Thursday 27th April**

Carlisle and Emmett have disappeared for the day to attend an auction in Westport so I help Esme in her garden. I don't have the heart to tell her that all her efforts with her flower beds will be in vain this year. She takes so much pleasure in selecting flowers and shrubs for her summer garden; growing plants from seeds and cuttings and nurturing them until they're strong enough to plant out. I guess if I'd told her what was going to happen as soon as I found out, she probably still would have carried on planting her garden as usual.

I'm trying to convince myself not to go in the city again tonight but the junkie in my head is craving for another fix. I wait until about two in the morning before driving to Bella's apartment again, keeping my window open so I can taste her as soon as I'm in her vicinity. I'm definitely becoming desensitised to her scent by now but I can still taste venom in my mouth as soon as I catch the first whiff, however the urge to feed is not as desperate as last night.

I park up then nonchalantly stroll past her alley. As expected her apartment is in darkness, but what is unusual is there's a piece of paper with writing on facing outwards that's stuck onto the inside of the glass. Even with my eyesight I can't tell what is written from the sidewalk, so after checking that the coast is clear, I scale the wall in a few seconds and hang onto the ledge while I read her note.

 _Thank you for the flowers. You are forgiven, but_ _please_ _don't do this again. Instead, come and talk to me. I_ _promise_ _I'll keep our conversation confidential if that's what you want._

I memorize her words then drop to the ground and slink into the shadows while I digest them. She wants to talk face to face, but I can't do that yet. If she's an honest person and is put under pressure to own up to her superiors that she's met me, they would demand to see me before taking the action I need them to take. I can't risk meeting anyone in authority in case they try to arrest me for somehow contriving the events I've predicted to happen, or some other trumped up charge. It would be obvious I couldn't contrive an earthquake, but tremors are common in this area and the one happening this weekend might be considered to be a lucky coincidence. Also, if the authorities get to know my name and this is recorded anywhere in association with what's due to happen, the Volturi in Italy would get to know what I'd been up to. If this happened, I might as well get on a plane and fly to Volterra to save Aro the trouble of sending his henchmen to get me.

I have to respond, but how? I'd emptied my car of my painting supplies so the chances are I've nothing to draw with unless something has fallen out in the trunk. With my fingers crossed I jog back to the car and search every nook and cranny until I find a black, thick-nibbed sharpie-type pen which is ideal for italics. However I don't have any paper, so my only option is to draw on her window, and it would have to be backwards so she could read it from inside her room as I'm not sneaking in there again.

I run back to the alley and scale her wall then have to picture the message in my head before drawing it. Writing backwards is difficult enough. Doing it on a dirty window, in italics, while balancing on a window ledge is even harder, but it's another way to show her that I'm not your average artist/human/vampire.

It takes me a while but when it's complete I'm satisfied with the result:

 _"Thank you for your forgiveness, Bella, but we cannot meet until you work the puzzle out for yourself. I'll know when that happens, and then I will make myself known to you. It will be soon, I promise."_

I drop to the ground for the final time and jog back to the car, but while I'm driving home I think about the words I wrote on the window and now regret offering to make myself known to her soon. I was being dishonest, as I was dangling a carrot to keep her focussed on the murals and not on looking for me. If she believed I would voluntarily come out of the shadows at some point in the future, then there would be no reason for her to spend any of her time trying to find out who I am. I truly want to properly meet her, but at the moment I can't imagine how this could happen as she would ask questions I wouldn't be able to answer.

As I pull into the drive feeling totally fed-up, I realise that it's Friday now, so at least I have the art club to lift me and then it's the weekend. I wonder whether Bella has any plans.

* * *

 **Friday 28th April**

I spend the day dropping off Carlisle and Emmett at two separate marinas to pick up boats they'd bought at the auction in Westport. They'll sail them back to our boathouses where Carlisle plans to restore and upgrade them at some point in the future. Like my dilemma with Esme and her garden, I know these boats will be smashed to pieces fairly soon, but unknown to Carlisle I'd taken out several disaster insurances for the house and business as soon as Alice told me what was going to happen, so at least we'll be compensated after the event.

I go early to the art club tonight and have everything ready for when the kids pile in. It's the biggest thrill of my week to see them as their enthusiasm is infectious. Even when I'm feeling really down these kids pick me up and give me a thousand times more of anything I give them. It was only for them I was defying Carlisle, Aro, the Volturi and thousands of years of tradition, and if the penalty for this was my demise, so be it.

Of course I drive home via Bella's apartment but it's in total darkness. Either she's out celebrating the end of her first week in her new job or she's gone away for the weekend. I decide not to hang around but go straight home.

Everyone is in the living room when I walk in, apart from Alice. Esme is reading, Carlisle is looking at boats on his computer and Emmett and Rosalie are cuddling on the sofa watching TV as usual. I run up the stairs to get changed as even though I wear coveralls, Esme doesn't like me sitting on her chairs in my art club clothes. As I walk past Alice's room, I can't help tapping into her thoughts which are extremely jumbled. It's like she's flicking through a movie extra-fast and I can't make out what it's about so I carry on walking.

I strip off and have a shower and try not to think about Bella but it's hopeless. After I've 'de-stressed' myself, I lie on the bed thinking about when, how or should I make myself known to her, which would have to be sometime before the quake. If she took the bait and warned the authorities then I wouldn't actually need to meet her, but I'd almost come to terms with the fact that I couldn't resist keeping away from her for much longer without at least trying to get to know her, even if it was just for a day.

I get dressed then spend some time in my studio sorting out my art supplies and cleaning all my pallets and brushes. I have my own washing machine in there as Esme doesn't like mixing my paint-covered clothes with the rest of the family's stuff, so I do two loads then throw most of it in the tumble dryer. Afterwards, I spend a few hours watching movies on the downstairs TV as the rest of the family have retired to their rooms by now and I don't want to disturb them. I'm not in the mood for meditating as frankly I'm too wound up to even consider knocking on the door of tranquillity.

Alice still hasn't emerged from her room and I can pick up that she's definitely getting distressed or frustrated about something. I wonder what she's thinking about and in the end I can't stand the suspense any longer and go upstairs and knock on her door. I wait and then knock again but she doesn't reply so I carry on to my room where I start playing a video game to distract me from listening to her thoughts.

About an hour later it's like someone has pulled the plug on Alice's brain as the rapid-fire images cease abruptly. A few seconds later she doesn't bother knocking but bursts through my door with a wild look on her face. Her eyes are wider than usual and her hair is in a total mess as though she's been grabbing and tugging at it.

"What the hell's happened?" I ask as I jump off the bed.

"It's Bella; she's in danger. She suddenly disappeared from our future and I sensed something awful had happened to her."

"What do you mean, awful? What the fuck's going on, Alice?"

"You've got to get to her, Edward. She's gone away for the weekend but I'm certain I've worked out where she is. It took me ages as I've been trawling every local newspaper looking for clues but this is what I've found. There's a guy after her. He's a Quileute and ... "

"You mean he's a fucking werewolf?"

"No ... I don't know ... I'm not sure, but he could have it in his blood I suppose. It doesn't matter what he is though, _just listen will you!_ I've been searching for anything to do with the name Bella Swan and finally found a future news story from a town called Forks where the daughter of the police chief was attacked and killed. Annoyingly her name was being withheld until all of the next of kin had been informed. The main suspect was named as a guy from the nearby reservation called Jacob Black who's disappeared. I found out on the internet who the police chief is and his name is Charlie Swan so I put two and two together that must be what's going to happen."

"When does he attack her, Alice?" I yell, not bothering that the rest of the house could probably hear me.

"Sometime today, Saturday April 29th."

"You mean it's not too late to save her?"

"I don't know; the only news report I've seen is still unclear. There're no ferries to Bainbridge until six so you'll have to drive the long way round if you want to get to Forks as soon as possible. It's roughly 140 miles away from here; not far from Port Angeles."

I fling my black hooded top over my t-shirt and head for the stairs but I'm blocked from going any further by Carlisle who's overheard the whole conversation from his room and is looking furious.

"What the hell's going on, Edward," he almost hisses. "You're not leaving this house until you tell me."

I take a deep breath before speaking which I don't really need, but it helps me to control myself.

"Carlisle, for once in your life you're going to have to put your loyalties to the Volturi's rules to one side. I'm going to save a girl from being murdered; a human girl that is. Alice will fill you in on the details while I'm gone, but if you try to stop me, I'll have no other option but to leave this house for ever."

Carlisle goes to say something and I know it's not going to be good because of the look on his face, but we both hear Esme shriek then she rushes out of their room and puts her hand on his arm.

"Let him go, Carlisle. It's just one girl who obviously means a lot to him. You and I know there's been something going on for the past few weeks. Saving one life is not going to set the Volturi in a spin."

"Go," Carlisle spits, "But you and I are having a long talk when you get back."

I mouth a thank you at Esme and turn towards Alice who's staring at me but she's glazed over again and I know she's still trying to glean more information from the future. I only hope she'll just spill a story about Bella and me, and not disclose what's going to happen to Seattle, but I can't hang about any longer. As I dash out the door I read Alice's mind again and she's telling me I'm not going to make it in time.

I turn on my heel and go back indoors. "What's happened, Alice?"

"It's almost dawn, Edward," she sobs as she rushes down the stairs. "I've just seen another report which says she was attacked early in the morning. The fastest car in the world isn't going to get you there before it happens. I'm so sorry."

I look frantically at Carlisle who's looking down at me from the top of the stairs then I leap back up and grab him by his arms. "I need the Riva, Carlisle. It's the only chance I've got to get there in time. I'll look after it; I promise."

Emmett and Rosalie have emerged from their room by now and Emmett jumps into the conversation. "I'll go with him, Carlisle. I'll look after the boat while he's ashore."

"No," Carlisle spits. "No-one touches that boat except for me. I'll take you there, Edward, but when we get back I want the full story; do you hear? No more bullshitting from you, or from you either, Alice Brandon."

"Thank you," I say gratefully and shoot out the door to the boat house.

Five minutes later we're tearing out of our inlet and heading across Puget Sound just as the sky in the east is turning pale pink and orange. We roar past Whidbey Island on our right then Port Townsend on our left as we head towards the ocean. Luckily the sea is calm and the tide is with us and once we're in the Strait we stay close to the shore, passing Port Angeles and other small coastal towns on our way to Sekiu which I've worked out using Google Maps is the closest beach to Forks. It takes us just over two hours to get there and when the unfamiliar bay comes into sight, Carlisle cuts the engine and idles towards the shore where I jump out onto a deserted wooden fishing pier and run towards the beach vampire-fast, not caring I may be spotted by any observant early-rising humans. It's now already gone eight in the morning and I've no idea where I'm going or how much time I have left to save her.

I follow the road signposted to Forks and cover the thirty miles in just over half an hour. The road runs through dense forest for most of the journey, which gives me the cover I need to run as fast as any vampire can without knowing where they're going or consciously having to avoid humans. By the time I get to Forks, the town is waking up to a cloudy Saturday, which is fortunate as I haven't covered my face with lotion. I'm still getting odd looks though, probably because I'm a stranger in a town where everybody knows everyone else. It doesn't help either that I'm dressed from head to toe in black and my long hair is a mess through being on a speedboat for over two hours then running like the wind for the last half hour. Also, I'm not wearing contacts or sunglasses, so my golden eyes are probably making the good people of Forks think they've got a Midwich Cuckoo in their midst.

I keep my head down as I rapidly walk up and down every street trying to pick up her scent but I'm having no luck at all, until I turn into a wide street at the edge of the town with shops and warehouses along either side. At the far end I spot what looks like Bella's car parked outside a General Store and even though I'm not certain it's hers, I feel like weeping with relief. But as I jog towards it wondering what to do next, a muscular and deafeningly loud motorbike roars past me and swings into the parking space next to the car. I hang back and watch as a giant with long, thick black hair slides off the seat and literally punches the door of the shop open and I know without question this is the bastard I've been looking for; Jacob fucking Black.

I shoot across the road and run up to the store, where I stand outside so I can listen to what's happening on the other side of the door. I'm mentally preparing myself to dive into the shop to rescue Bella if he tries anything, but knowing he'd be stupid to attack her with witnesses around. Her scent is flowing like a river through the door so I'm positive she's inside or has been very recently, but this time my senses aren't being clouded by desire; I'm too focussed on what Black is saying.

The conversation he's having with a man inside, who I'm guessing owns the store, is acrimonious from the outset and I can clearly hear every word. The man is denying knowing whose car it is, following which Black threatens the guy with retaliation. I hear more threats and an almighty crash and I guess Black is about to leave, so I dive out of sight around the side of the building and wait as he gets on his bike and roars off. I'm tempted to follow him and break his neck as soon as I catch him, but this would mean I would have to run at vampire-speed through the town which is not advisable in the circumstances. I don't want to piss Carlisle off any more than he's pissed already.

I keep listening and eventually Bella comes out of hiding. After the man and a woman have calmed her down, she helps tidy up the store. Eventually the man comes out with her and helps load her car with her purchases. After saying goodbye to the couple who are obviously good friends, she pulls away and starts driving in the direction of the forest. Not wanting to lose sight of her, I nonchalantly stroll past the store rather than run because the man is watching her drive away and then break into a jog. As soon as I'm out of sight of the store I run faster than I probably ever have done in my life before.

I easily catch up with Bella who's driving quite slowly, probably because she's still shaken up. I keep pace with the car as I run through the trees but we haven't gone far when I hear the distinctive roar of Black's bike behind me, which means that as I expected he's waited for her to leave so he could get her on her own. I look behind me through the gaps in the trees and I can just see flashes of silver in the distance but he's gaining on her rapidly. Bella has obviously seen him as she's put her foot on the gas and her car accelerates to a speed where even I'm having difficulty keeping up with it, while watching her and Black, and dodging trees at the same time.

Without signalling, she slows down then skids around a corner onto a road which cuts through the forest. She floors the gas pedal but changing direction has given me the opportunity to come level with her again. Black comes flying around the bend a few seconds later and I know this is it; he's definitely going to attempt to catch her before she gets home. If she holds her nerve and keeps moving a guy on a bike has no hope of stopping a car unless he has a weapon, but I'm not prepared to take the chance that he hasn't got a knife or a gun concealed somewhere.

His bike is now only feet away from her bumper and I can hear him screaming vile insults at her. I know it's now or never or Bella is going to crash, and as I'm preparing myself to lunge at him, he swerves to one side to come alongside her then pulls a full-size baseball bat from inside his jacket and swings it over his head ready to smash her windshield.

Using the trunk of a young tree as a launching pad, I hook my left arm around it and swing myself into the air. The energy in my speeding body hurls me across the road and I grab hold of the bike's handlebars with one hand and Black's hair and jacket with the other. The velocity I'm travelling at combined with my super-human strength pitches us into a gap in the line of trees on the opposite side of the road where we crash against the sturdy trunk of a massive Red Cedar.

I'm tempted to finish him there and then but I haven't killed a human for exactly a hundred years and I'm not ready to add this crime to my list of misdemeanors which Carlisle is going to judge me on fairly soon. More importantly though, I want Black and everybody else on his Reservation to know that a deadly vampire's in town watching them, just in case any more of them are in the process of shifting, which Black obviously is as I can smell it on him. He's not a werewolf yet or he'd be shifting now, but he's not far off, and this could be trouble for us. Our cousins in Alaska had warned us about the Quileute tribe when we took the decision to live in Seattle, but we'd had no reason to venture this far west before, and as far as we knew they were unaware we had taken up residence not far from their land. After today they'd have no doubt.

The crash has stunned Black but fortunately he's still conscious as I want what I'm going to do to him to really hurt. I roughly pull him away from his bike and have the added satisfaction of hearing his shoulder crack as I purposely dislocate it. As I'm dragging him into the forest away from the road, I crush his wrist bones on his left hand with my iron grip to make sure his biking days are over for the foreseeable future then flip him over and stomp on his right hip and knee which will hopefully disable him even further. I wasn't finished with him yet so I grind my fist into his nose and cheekbone before picking him up and flinging him hard against another tree which cuts his face to ribbons.

Amazingly he's still conscious, so I drag him face down by one foot further into the forest to where there's a gap in the trees, then get hold of one of his legs and an arm and swing him around my head several times like an Olympic shot-putter, then let go. He lands about twenty feet up in a mighty Douglas fir, dangling precariously from a rather weak-looking lower branch. I can hear him groaning so I scale the tree in a flash, grab hold of his hair and turn his smashed and bleeding face towards mine. He's spitting blood by now and the stench of werewolf makes me retch.

"You know what I am, don't you," I hiss. "I'm your worst fucking nightmare. I could kill you right now but your tainted blood would taste disgusting to me. But I'm warning you, Jacob Black, if you threaten or harass any female in this town or anywhere else, ever again, you _will_ die slowly and painfully at my hands. Do you understand me, Black?"

He's in no fit state to respond to me with words, but he blinks his eyes which is a signal to me he understands my threat, then his eyes roll back in his head and he passes out. I'm still tempted to break his neck but I jump from the tree leaving him up there, knowing he'll probably injure himself further when he either climbs or falls to the ground. All that's left for me to do now is to smash his bike to pieces so he won't have any means of getting home, even though the damage I've done to his joints has probably disabled him for months.

As I tear his bike into unrecognisable lumps of metal and toss each piece into the depths of the forest, I don't feel the slightest bit guilty about what I've done. I'd easily read his disgusting and depraved thoughts when he was following Bella and his intention was to force her to crash, after which he planned to assault her. I would guess after this he would've broken her neck to make it look like the impact killed her. I couldn't imagine why he was after her and could only guess that she had rebuffed him in the past and he was getting his revenge. All I do know is that Black must be insane to go after a defenseless young female who is also the daughter of the Chief of Police, especially after the threats he made in the store. But now he'll be painfully aware he has a vengeful vampire watching him. Hopefully knowing this he'll have the sense to leave Bella alone, or I would definitely kill him.

After destroying his bike I run in the direction Bella was heading and pick up her scent again where the forest line comes to an end. I follow the road until I spot her car parked outside a small wooden house at the end of a street lined with similar style properties and I know then that she's safe. If her father really is the Chief of Police, I would guess an APB for Jacob Black is already being broadcast across the County's airwaves. Even though I want to hang around and see her again, I know I have to get back to the boat.

The immediate problem had been resolved, but now I have to face interrogation by Carlisle Cullen.

* * *

 **Ouch! Jacob got a severe pasting which is what he deserved if his plan was to kill her, but will it curtail his desire to get revenge on Bella for dumping him, or will this make him even more angry and determined?**

 **So now it's 'Trial by Carlisle'. Is Edward ready to tell him the whole story now or will he still try to hide what's going on. He's been keeping quiet so that the family isn't implicated if Aro finds out, but Carlisle won't be messed about any more. Showdown time!**

 **Next chapter is the final part of Edward's story which will bring him to the point where we left Bella, which is in front of the mural that tells all. It's quite a long chapter, so get yourself comfy before you start.**

 **Joan xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI -** **CHAPTER NINETEEN**

* * *

Using the cover of the forest as much as possible, I race back to Sekiu where Carlisle is waiting for me in the bay. I sprint up the wooden pier which by now is very much alive with weekend sailors and fishermen, and leap into the Riva before anyone has the chance to comment on my sparkling face. Carlisle rams the boat into reverse and once we're clear of the morning traffic and have open sea in front of us, he roars away at a frightening speed. As we clear the bay and are heading back the way we came, Carlisle looks me up and down in disgust as I'm filthy from rolling about in the forest, plus I'm covered in Jacob Black's blood.

"Did you save her?" he spits.

"Yes," I answer curtly.

"Whose blood is on you then?"

"The Quileute guy who was going to kill her."

"Is he dead?"

"No."

Carlisle huffs but doesn't say any more during the whole journey until we get back to the inlet. I'm too wound-up to start any sort of conversation with him so we brood in silence for the whole two and a quarter hours. After he carefully docks the boat and switches off the motor, he turns in my direction and it's obvious he's still livid as he tears into me.

"Get cleaned up; I can smell werewolf all over you and it's making me retch. When you're presentable, I want you and Alice in my study and you're not leaving until I know everything that's been going on between you two over the last couple of months. If I find out in the future that either of you have kept anything from me, then we're done, and both of you will have no option but to leave this house. I know this will break Esme's heart, but I will not tolerate any member of my family being deceitful. _Do you understand?_ "

I draw breath then look him straight in the eyes as I reply with just as much feeling and indignation.

"I'll get cleaned up, Carlisle," I hiss back because I'm furious he used the word deceitful without knowing the story. "But I'm not saying _anything_ to _anybody_ unless the whole family is present to hear what I've got to say. I planned to tell you all soon anyway, and hopefully when you find out why I've been 'deceitful' as you call it, you'll understand why I've been secretive, and you'll thank me for it. Despite what you might think of me at the moment, keeping my own counsel has been for _your_ benefit, and Esme's, and Emmett and Rosalie's. Alice knows what's been going on, but _don't you dare_ question her until we're both together."

I don't wait for Carlisle's response but leap off the boat and purposefully walk towards the house before he can say anything else. I know my voice has carried as my shocked family, including Alice, are outside on the lawn and none of them say a word as I stride past. As I near the French windows that overlook the inlet, I drag my hooded jacket off and toss it on the grass as it reeks of Jacob Black, then I run into the house and head upstairs to my room.

I spend half an hour in the shower removing every trace of Black's stink from my skin, hair and nostrils, then lie down on the bed for another half hour and concentrate on tapping into my family's thoughts. Esme is distraught. Emmett is in shock because he presumes I'm having a relationship with a human. Rosalie thinks this is romantic but hopes she isn't prettier than her. Carlisle is steaming, but he's also intrigued about what I've said, and Alice is in bits because of what's about to happen.

I know it's now or never so I reluctantly haul myself off the bed, get dressed and knock for Alice who's retreated to her room. She opens the door and falls into my arms so I kiss the top of her head and whisper, "It'll be alright," to her, even though I've no clue how Carlisle is going to react, and whether he really is prepared to kick us both out.

We walk down the stairs hand in hand for solidarity then into the living room that overlooks our inlet. At this time of the day the water is bathed in sunlight and looks idyllic, which makes what I'm about to tell them even more shocking because the sea is where the danger is coming from.

Carlisle is looking regal in his favorite chair and the others are standing behind him staring at us expectantly, but before I have a chance to open my mouth, Alice starts speaking and she puts her hand up to stop me from interrupting her.

"This is all _my_ fault I suppose," she says, but she doesn't sound apologetic at all; in fact her voice and her words from thereon are strong and purposeful.

"Nearly a year ago I foresaw something awful happening to this part of the world which absolutely broke my heart. It wasn't imminent, so I kept it to myself as my visions kept changing and I wasn't absolutely certain when it was actually going to happen. I tried to block my visions from Edward because I didn't want to worry him unnecessarily, and I was successful for about six months, but on the day I worked out the actual date and time it was going to occur, it was impossible to keep it from him because it was so shocking and I couldn't stop myself thinking about it. On the day he questioned me, which was back in October, I told him everything I knew for definite.

"Edward asked me not to say anything to you all straight away and as we still had several months to play with I agreed. You were away at the time, Carlisle, so even before Edward spoke to me I was going to wait for your return so that the whole family was present when I told you. Edward went off on one of the boats to think about what I'd told him and brooded on the information overnight. A few days later and before you returned, he told me he wanted to warn the city and asked me to help. Initially I said no, but agreed to hold off telling you all while Edward was still pleading for me to help him do what he wanted to do. But when I really thought about his plan and realised it _could_ work without disclosing who or what we are, I was convinced that what he was going to do was right and I've been helping him ever since. So, Carlisle, I don't regret anything, no matter what the consequences are for me."

"So what's going to happen, Alice?" Emmett interrupts. "Is the volcano going to blow?"

"No," I answer for her. "It's an earthquake, but it will be out at sea on the Cascadia Subduction Zone. The quake is going to be absolutely massive and will cause a huge amount of damage on land, but that's not all. It's going to create a giant tidal wave of over a hundred feet in places, which will swamp everywhere from Vancouver to Seattle and across the Olympic Peninsula and down towards Oregon; basically all the land that's under a hundred feet above sea level could be underwater for a while. If the population isn't evacuated beforehand, thousands of people will either be crushed to death by the impact of the quake or they'll drown in the floods that will travel inland for miles."

Esme shrieks when I mention the tidal wave, Rosalie grabs hold of Emmett, and Carlisle's face freezes in shock for an instant, but then he starts shaking his head, almost like he's in denial.

"We cannot interfere with the natural order of life, Edward. We can leave, but that's it. I'm absolutely forbidding you to warn the authorities, as this would mean breaking the Volturi's rules about revealing ourselves to the human community. The consequences for this family if the Volturi found out would be deadly."

"Too late," I reply, shrugging my shoulders in defiance. "I've already started the ball rolling on this. I'm not going to stand aside and allow thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of people to be killed when Alice and I have the ability to save them. That's why we haven't told you what we were doing, Carlisle. If the Volturi descend on this family to hold us to account, then you and Esme, and Emmett and Rosalie, can honestly say to Aro and his henchmen that you were totally unaware we were warning the city. Alice and I will pay the price, but it's a price both of us consider worth paying."

"So what have you done, Edward?" Esme asks and I can hear the emotion in her voice. "Have you told someone in authority that one of us can predict the future?"

"Not directly, Esme. I've been painting murals all over the city predicting events that are due to happen in the following days or weeks. Tonight there's going to be a mild earthquake that among lots of other things will trap people up the Space Needle and upset all the pictures in the Frye Art Museum. I've already painted murals depicting both those events. A while ago there was a thunderstorm which set a restaurant alight and I painted a mural of depicting this a week before it happened. I've predicted lottery numbers and sporting events, and the winner of the Kentucky Derby next Saturday. A painting on the Aquarium wall was a future news report from Oregon. I've drawn stressed animals waiting to see a psychiatrist, which I hope will alert the authorities because wildlife is super-sensitive of imminent natural disasters and I've also painted a nuclear submarine tipped over by the force of the wave."

"Will this happen?" Carlisle interrupts. "An accident like that could cause long-term radio-active pollution problems for the ocean if the reactor leaks."

"If the city officials and the Navy believe Alice's prediction, hopefully they'll take any subs in port out to sea before the wave hits. The mural is a warning that a nuclear incident _could_ happen."

Esme, Emmett and Rosalie who were all standing when Alice started talking, are sitting now, probably due to shock. Esme has her head in her hands and Emmett has his arm around Rosalie who is visibly shaking. I can read Carlisle's mind and I can tell he's confused about how to react. He'd been a doctor since modern medicine was invented and probably would go back to medicine sometime in the future when all his contemporaries had passed away, so caring for humans was in his genes. But he had always adhered to the Volturi's rules and restrictions imposed on our kind as he wanted to live in the human world, but this dilemma was tearing him apart.

Of all of us, Carlisle had led the most human of existences; blending in with the population when only the fact that he didn't age had led to suspicions that something wasn't right. When this happened he would move on and start again elsewhere, so I was watching him carefully as he got up from his chair and paced the floor. But before he had a chance to declare his position, Emmett brought up the one thing I didn't want to discuss.

"So where does the girl fit into all this, and who the hell is she?"

It was obvious Carlisle had temporarily forgotten about our rescue mission this morning as he stops thinking about the implications for the family and focusses on me again. "Yes, Edward, I'm guessing she's involved somehow."

I don't want to tell them everything about her at this point so I just give them the basics.

"Her name is Bella Swan and she works for the city. I'm guessing her job is to look at all the graffiti in Seattle and preserve any that has artistic merit. She works with a guy called Jasper Whitlock but she's only been in Seattle for a week. Alice told me she's the key to persuading the city to act on my predictions. Yesterday Alice realised she'd suddenly and inexplicably disappeared from our future so she searched for the reason. Early this morning Alice came across evidence that she'd be murdered if she went home to Forks for the weekend. I had to save her life or my whole plan would've been in jeopardy."

"So you're not having a relationship with her," Rosalie asked sounding disappointed.

"No, but I am attracted to her which is a distraction."

I didn't want to say any more about Bella but Alice gleefully adds, "You're not going to believe this but Edward can't read her mind."

The whole family gasp in unison and I give Alice a filthy look. This was something I didn't want to disclose at this time as it was still hard for me to accept. Fortunately none of them make any comment because there are other more important things on their minds.

Carlisle had been quiet for a while but I was tapping into his thoughts. He was understandably angry that I'd already set the wheels in motion for the city to be warned of the impending disaster, but as a humanitarian he understood why I'd done it. He'd accepted that mine and Alice's lives were now forfeit if Aro found out what we'd done; his dilemma now was whether to question me further and get the rest of the family involved, or let me do my own thing and hope the news didn't get back to Italy. I knew I had to say something to convince him not to interfere.

"If Aro discovers what Alice and I have done, Carlisle, you know that he won't rest until he finds out whether you knew what we were doing and could've stopped us. At this moment you're innocent parties. If we say any more to you today you'll be as guilty as we are. So if it helps, Alice and I will leave the house tonight and we'll stay away from you until we meet up again after the event. I've told you I've already set everything in motion so there's no going back for us. Let's just hope he doesn't find out."

There was dead silence in the room but I could tell that Esme was silently crying. Rosalie was already mentally going through her many closets deciding what to take with her. Emmett was torn between wanting to stay behind to help me or taking Rosalie straight to Alaska, and Carlisle was working out how many boats he could save in time, and then he realised no-one had asked Alice when the earthquake was going to happen.

"So how much time is there, Alice? When is the tidal wave coming?"

"Nine days, Carlisle," she answers. "On Monday May 8th at 8.03 in the evening".

Emmett immediately jumps to his feet. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he exclaims. "How the fuck are you going to clear the city in a week?"

"I don't know," I admit, "but that's _my_ problem, not yours. I'm not going to say any more to you now. What's done is done so now I'm just praying Bella and Jasper have got the wit to act on the information I've given them."

"So have you told them about the tidal wave," Carlisle asks.

"I told you, I'm not saying anything that would incriminate you," I reply slowly but forcefully. "I'm sorry if you feel this is deceitful, but I love you guys and I'm not doing anything to put your lives at risk."

Carlisle huffs then turns his back on me and walks over to the windows overlooking the inlet. I can tap into what he's thinking of course. He's staring out to sea, imagining what a tidal wave would do to our home and his precious boats. I look at Esme and she's only worried about me and Alice and what Aro would do to us if he found out. I shudder as I can see what she's imagining and it isn't pleasant.

"I need to think," Carlisle growls, "and I don't want you eavesdropping on my thoughts, Edward," he adds. He walks over to the table and picks up the keys to the Riva then heads out the door. I guess what he's going to do, which is to put as much distance between him and my mind-reading skills. I'm disappointed that he doesn't trust me but I understand his actions.

Esme rushes over and flings her arms around me. "You and Alice aren't going _anywhere._ We're a family and we're going to work together as a family until the last moment. I don't want to know what you're doing, Edward, or you Alice; just do what you have to do then save yourselves."

I kiss her the Italian way on both cheeks then she flings her arms around Alice. Rosalie takes the opportunity to run upstairs and I can already hear her dragging her luggage out of the cupboards so she can pack all her 'essentials', which basically means everything.

Emmett walks up to me and gives me a manly hug. "I'm with you bro'," he says and I can tell he's choked up. "I've got to think of Rosalie, but if there's anything I can do to make things easier, just let me know."

"Sure will," I reply and I must admit I start to feel emotional for the first time. It suddenly hits home what this house and family mean to me and I'm on the point of losing the anchor which has kept me connected to the ground for the past hundred years.

Carlisle had taken the news much better than I'd imagined but how he would deal with the situation if Aro became involved was another matter. He didn't agree with many of the Volturi's restrictions and had sailed close to the wind by being a doctor, but he accepted there had to be some sort of order if our kind were to remain anonymous and only believed to be supernatural beings from movies or fiction.

I follow Carlisle's path through the French windows but stay on the patio where I watch him roar off in the Riva. The sun is at its highest point in the sky by now and my skin is sparkling like diamonds in the light. I appreciate this is a beautiful effect but I curse how restricted my life is because of this affliction. This, more than anything else, shows to the world how different we are. My cold skin is also a give-away so I can't even touch Bella without her realising I'm not normal, and this guts me as well.

There have only been a few times in my long existence when I've regretted not being a human; now is one of them. If I could reverse the condition I would, but I know this would never be possible so there's no point dwelling on it. I would only end up sinking into another pit of despair and the storm clouds of depression would once again hover over me and take countless decades to shake off, if ever, now that Bella's part of the equation.

I recognise I have to focus my mind on how I'm going to let Bella know what's going to happen. The first major tremor is due to hit the city tonight and this should be the trigger for her to realise that I've been predicting the future. I've already chosen the building I'm going to deface next, which is Johnson Hall on the University Campus; the home of the Pacific Northwest Seismic Network, but it's a busy area so I'll have to be quick and very careful. I plan to paint it tomorrow night as Sunday's on the campus is usually the quietest night, so I need to work out what to draw as there's no point in being ambiguous this time. It's going to have to be brutally straight to the point.

I stay in for the rest of Saturday as there's no reason to go into the city. Bella is probably still in Forks and would no doubt travel back on Sunday evening. At about ten-thirty the earthquake hits and it's stronger than I imagined it would be. I immediately think about Bella's house being surrounded by trees but Alice assures me she'll be okay and not to worry.

I watch the TV during the night and they're reporting on folks being trapped in the Space Needle for hours. Fortunately no-one has been badly injured in the areas affected, but the power is out in several parts of the city. The talk all night on the news channels is whether this is a warning that the 'Big One' is imminent and maps of fault lines in the area are regularly put up on screen. It's all very light-hearted journalism though; even the half-asleep 'experts' they've dragged out of bed to interview are telling folks not to panic.

I spend Sunday going through my own possessions deciding what I want to save. Emmett has offered to get hold of a large truck or a giant RV, fill it with everything the family wants to keep and drive it to Alaska with Rosalie and Esme. Carlisle is planning to use the time left to get his favorite boats away from the danger zone and moor them in marinas in Oregon. He would take the Riva to Alaska two or three days before the earthquake is due to hit and Alice and I would follow in Lugano.

I wait until after midnight before setting off for the University campus. Alice offers to come with me again to keep watch and we talk about Carlisle's reaction to what we've done. He hasn't spoken to us since disappearing on the Riva but I guess he's concentrating on where to re-locate the family to following the inevitable destruction of our property.

It takes me a while to find Johnson Hall on the campus, but as we drive into the parking lot in front of it, it's plain to see there is no way I'm going to be able to paint there tonight. TV crews with satellite dishes are parked nearby and the building is bathed in artificial light ready for when the scientific boffins turn up for work on Monday morning, where they'll no doubt be pressed for a prediction on when the Big One is going to happen.

"Shit!" I exclaim and I'm furious with myself for not predicting this might happen. I spin the car around and head for home.

"Can't you use another building?" Alice asks.

"Yes, I could, but this one will have the most impact. It's where seismologists monitor every tremor and earthquake in this part of the world. They'll have to be heavily involved with convincing the public to evacuate the area so they need to see what's going to happen."

"Right," Alice replies. "I've no idea how Bella's going to convince them though?"

"Neither do I," I agree. "She must be made of stronger stuff than what's evident on the surface."

* * *

 **Monday 1st May**

The day drags by. I'm tempted to go into the city to stalk Bella but stay at home helping Esme pack the house up which doesn't take long as vampires can move at lightning speed. At six o'clock I set off the for the art club where at least I'll be distracted from everything else that's going on around me.

The kids all pile in on time and quickly start working on their projects I've laid out for them. Once they are settled and working quietly, I do a quick stock check in the storeroom and box-up all the valuable items I want to save from the flood. As I'm making my way back to the children, I catch a scent that reminds me of Bella, even though I know it can't be her as there's no way she could've found me this quickly.

I walk a bit further along the corridor then stop dead as though I've been hit by a wrecking ball. I have to grab hold of the door frame to stop me rushing in to attack the human who is causing my mouth to drip with venom, but as I get used to the scent and recognise its distinctive nuances, I have to accept that somehow or other she's found me and she's behind that very thin, inadequate door.

Even after five minutes of de-sensitisation, Bella's scent is still taunting me and knowing she's only yards away from me is both exciting and frightening. When I've been in her presence before she's either been at a safe distance, or I've had a chance to get used to her scent before getting close to her. I'd been afforded no such luxury this time. I take deep gulps of the air to help the desensitisation process and when I feel as much in control as I ever could be in her presence, I calmly walk into my classroom wondering how the hell she's tracked me down.

She has her back to me when I walk through the door and I still can't compute the fact that she's breezed into my world and is now interacting with _my_ kids. Her gorgeous long, curly hair is covering her face as she bends over a child's work, but my sordid brain is far more interested in the shape of her ass which is totally divine and is making my dick twitch, which is _definitely_ not appropriate for the classroom. She's wearing skin-tight black pants, obviously to taunt me, with a loose fitting and very pretty blue blouse and I just know the color will complement her eyes.

I watch, totally mesmerized, as she flits from one child to another as though she's the teacher, not me. I walk over to her to introduce myself and as I stand behind her, drinking in her scent, a child calls out my name. I immediately go over to see what the problem is, well aware that she's watching me. I can feel her gaze on me almost like a source of heat warming my back.

More children are calling out for assistance so I amble from one to another knowing she must be assessing me. I'm intrigued how she's found me as the club is a long way from downtown. Somebody must have told her about it but I can't think who.

I'm checking out a little girl's model of a sheep when I hear her coming up behind me.

"That's lovely," she says as she crouches down beside the girl who smiles warmly at her.

"Yes it is," I respond as I stand over her. I physically have to restrain myself from touching her hair which is incredibly beautiful and looks so soft and fluffy. Her scent is overwhelming me again so I shove my hands in the pockets of my coveralls and concentrate on controlling myself while she examines the little girl's model.

As she stands up I remember too late that I've forgotten to put contacts in my eyes. I always wear them in the club, especially after I've fed to lessen the impact of the unusual color, but there's no point putting them in now. As she stares directly at my face I see a look of shock flash across hers when she notices them, which then turns to what I can only describe as confusion, or possibly disappointment? For a moment I'm confused as well, and then I realise she was expecting me to be the man who'd been stalking her. The last time she'd seen my eyes they were as black as coal; now they were golden like the sun.

"Welcome to our Club," I say to break the spell as I could spend the rest of my life looking into her stunningly beautiful eyes. "I'd shake your hand but mine are covered in paint," I stammer, and hold them up as evidence. At least I have an excuse not to touch her so she won't discover that my skin is as cold as ice. Well, that's an exaggeration, but she would notice straight away they're not a normal temperature.

She's still staring at me as though I'm from Mars and at least five seconds pass before she says 'Hi'. I smile at her and notice that she visibly relaxes.

"I'm Bella, Bella Swan. I work at Seattle's Municipal Offices," she replies and I can tell she's slightly overcome. "Would you like to check my security badge?" she offers.

"Please," I respond and walk over to my desk then wait while she searches through her over-sized purse which I can see contains a ring-binder type of file. She hands me her badge which has her full name printed on it. 'Ms Isabella Marie Swan', Urban Arts Consultant, and I can't help smiling at her job title.

"So, how can I help you? Have I upset someone at City Hall?" I ask trying to sound business-like but failing.

She's still staring at me like I've got three heads and I have to snap her out of her almost mesmerized state.

"Bella?"

She jumps and looks flustered as her cheeks turn the most delectable shade of pink which almost makes me want to weep.

"Sorry," she apologises as she delves into her purse again. "I'm so astounded by what's happening here, it's actually left me speechless," she says as an explanation, but I know it's an excuse. Even though I can't read her mind, she's obviously trying to decide whether I'm the man she's looking for; in other words the artist/stalker/pervert who snuck into her bedroom, or just a random good-looking guy with Marvel Comic eyes.

I respond to the compliment by laughing as though I believe her and I'm flattered, and then say something about the kids being wonderful and how I encourage them to grow and improve. She's nodding her head in agreement as I speak and I can tell she is genuinely 'astounded' by what I'm saying.

Her hands are shaking slightly when she opens the file to show me what's in there and the picture on top is of the shark attack. I pretend to be interested and take the file from her as she speaks.

"The Mayor wants me to find out who drew this and all the other paintings in this file. He, she or they aren't in any sort of trouble though. The Mayor would like to commission them to do other work in the city so it's my job to track the artist or artists down. Do you know who might be responsible?"

I flick through every picture but go back to the one near the school. "That's not by the same artist," I say so I don't have to answer her question directly and hand the file back to her.

"How can you tell?" she asks sounding surprised.

"Instinct," I reply then elaborate on how different that one is to the others. She's mulling this over when a child calls out wanting my attention. I excuse myself and help the boy with his model for a few minutes. While I'm away from her I think about what to say next. She'll ask me if I know of anyone who has the skill to do this type of work but hopefully she won't actually ask me directly if I've done them. I wander back to her and look at the file again.

"These paintings have been drawn by someone with a lot of skill, but even though my past and present students are very capable, there's nothing in those pictures to indicate they were done by any of mine. I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"That's okay," she says and then, "Can you tell me one thing though?"

"Sure, fire away," I reply nervously.

"Easy? Why do the kids call you Easy?"

"That's 'easy'," I reply grinning with relief. "My initials are E.C. I told the kids to call me that to start with but over time that's morphed into Easy."

"So what's your real name then?"

"That's two questions; I only agreed to one."

"That's not fair," she sulks.

"I know," I reply and I give her one of my evil grins.

She puts the file back in her bag and I'm expecting her to leave, but she takes a deep breath as though she needs it for courage.

"Could I stay until the end of the class? I'd love to talk to the children if that's okay by you."

"Sure," I reply as I'm eager for her to stay so I could learn more about her. I signal for her to follow me to a cupboard at the back of the room where I find her a coat to go over her blouse. "Have fun," I say as I put her purse and jacket in a safe place and I'm rewarded with a radiant smile which lights up her whole face, and at this precise moment, I accept I've fallen hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Ms Isabella Marie Swan.

She stays for the whole of the class and it's patently obvious she's supremely knowledgeable about art which is the icing on the cake for me. Her manner with the children is relaxed and encouraging and she talks to them about the art she's seen in Europe. What endears her to me the most though is that she's genuinely interested in the children. She wants to know about their schools and what they learn there and also what they want to do with their lives in the future. She never once discourages them; even the ones whose ambitions are completely off the wall.

I hear her asking the children questions about me as well so she's curious about who I am and where I come from. Frustratingly for her the children are not forthcoming as they only know me as 'Easy'. My background and history is thankfully a mystery to them.

Bella helps pack everything away and I can tell she wants to talk to me after the children have left. I'm concerned she'll ask me questions I can't answer, including whether I'm the elusive artist she's seeking. I honestly don't know how I'll answer this question if she asks me directly as I don't want to lie to her.

When the last child has gone she walks over to the desk and collects her belongings.

"Thank you; I really enjoyed myself," she says. "You have an amazing place here; I can't begin to tell you how impressed I am."

"I'm glad you had fun," I reply, and before I can stop myself I add, "You're welcome to come back if you like," and instantly regret making the offer, especially as the club will be no more in a week's time.

"Could I?" she practically gushes. "I've only just moved to Seattle and don't have much to do in the evenings. I'd be happy to help."

"Sure," I reply. "I never miss a Monday or a Friday so just rock-up when you can."

"I'd love to do both days but can only come on Monday's. I go home to Forks on Friday. Would that still be okay?"

"Very okay," I reply feeling relieved as this means she won't be able to come again. "I'll see you next week and hopefully by then you've found out who your mystery artist is."

She starts walking towards the door then turns to wave goodbye. I desperately want to follow her, to find out more about her, but it's not something I can even contemplate doing. I can't reveal myself to her now or at any time in the future. She's my unattainable dream girl and I have to let her go.

"Bye then," she whispers and then she's gone.

I hear her car door slam but she waits a few minutes before she drives away. As soon as I'm confident she's gone, I walk up to the nearest wall and punch it with my fist so hard that the blow forms a deep crater in the cinder block and cracks the ones around it. Frustration; exasperation; infuriation is building up inside of me like a volcano and I'm on the point of exploding. I'm raging that I've found the girl who was put on this earth for me and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it.

How many years have I waited for her? I've been on this planet for over six centuries and no female, either human or vampire, has ever moved me, tempted me, infuriated me or fascinated me like Isabella Swan. My gut is on fire, my brain is scrambled, my heart … well, I don't have a physical, beating heart anymore, but my memory of having one is still fresh after all this time and I know it would be bursting if I was still human.

How I wish I was a man again and know that I could touch her and make love to her. Not ever being able to do those things was driving me insane. I felt as though I was being punished for all the bad things I'd done in my life; for all the lives I'd taken; for all the lies I'd told to cover who I truly was. If I couldn't have Bella, and Aro and his cronies wanted to end my life in payment for saving Seattle, then it would be a blessed relief as I wouldn't want to continue living any more centuries as a celibate ghost.

I knew I should be thinking about painting Johnson Hall tonight but I'm in no fit state to do anything, let alone create a storyboard timeline depicting the devastation that's going to happen a week from tonight. I'm acutely aware time is running out but I'd already come to the conclusion that it was safer leaving the reveal to the last minute as I didn't want to give the Mayor the opportunity to have second thoughts about evacuation, or to spend valuable time looking for me. He had to act immediately and evacuate the city as an emergency; not have people stockpiling food or moving to what they thought was high ground. They had to be told to run and keep running.

I send Alice a text to tell her I wasn't painting this evening as I'm too wound-up, and promise to tell her why when I got back. I lock up the warehouse, pack up the Volvo with my usual bag plus some of the supplies I want to save, and set off for home.

Alice is waiting for me when I pull up outside so we wander down to the water together and sit on our jetty. I tell her what happened at the art club and that I've fallen hard for Bella. I also declare that I don't need to know what's going on in Bella's head because she's everything I'd ever wanted, even though I still know hardly anything about her.

* * *

 **Tuesday 2nd May**

At just after eight in the morning, Emmett turns up with a monster truck which he's hired for a month. I've never seen him so excited about anything; he's like a kid with a shiny new toy. If the situation wasn't so serious it would be quite funny watching him bouncing up and down in the driver's seat like a three-year-old.

I help Emmett load Esme's favorite pieces of art and furniture which have always moved from house to house with us. After everything is stacked securely, Rosalie begins filling up the space with the contents of her capacious closet, after which amazingly there is still some space left for the rest of the family's belongings.

I hadn't made any plans for today and after filling up the truck there was nothing more to do in the house or the boatyards until the family was actually ready to leave. In the end I get in the Volvo and head back to the city. Just being near to where I know Bella would be is the only thing I want to do. If I saw her, that would be a bonus.

I park up and wander around the streets near to the Municipal building where traces of her scent are still lingering. After a couple of hours of walking in the rain, I spot her heading down the steep hill towards the waterfront. I wonder why she's out during the day and presume she's going to meet someone, so I follow her, keeping my distance, and hide behind one of the pillars holding up the viaduct and watch her as she stops in front of the mural on the Aquarium.

I'm sorely tempted to go over and speak to her but I hang back to watch for a while. I can see her face in profile and it's obvious she has something on her mind as she's definitely frowning. Then she turns her back on me and stares out over the water, even though there's nothing to see but mist and rain between the shore and Bainbridge Island.

I know she's thinking about me without being able to read her mind; she wouldn't have come to this spot otherwise. It's only a guess, but I suspect she's connected the pictures to the stories in the news, like the earthquake and the blazing café, and she's come out here to think. I worry that if she's suspects that the guy who painted the murals is the guy from the art club, she may tell her bosses she's discovered who the culprit is. They can't do anything to me, like arrest me or even catch me, but I don't want anybody in authority sniffing around me or my family. We've kept under the radar for years and I don't want to be the one who blows our cover. Carlisle would be furious. Also, and more importantly, I have to tell the kids in the club that there'll be no art club next Monday. I would do this on Friday, which would hopefully be after the Mayor, or somebody on his level, had warned the city of the impending disaster. I need her to hold on until tomorrow, which is when she would learn what all this was about.

I decide to write her a message and luckily I still have the black thick-nibbed pen in my pocket I'd used to write on her window. I write in Italics on one of the pillars what I want to say to her so she'll know it was from me,

 ** _If you believe in me, the next step is to trust me. You will know why soon. Please don't try to find me or tell anybody who I am; it would be too dangerous for both of us._**

then I wait for her to turn around. I have to let her see me so I'm taking a risk, but this is the only way I can indicate to her that I've left her a message.

I see her looking at her watch then she spins on her heel and starts walking towards me but she's staring at the sidewalk. At the curb she looks up and I can feel her gaze resting on me like a caress, but I keep my eyes down as I don't want her to see that my eyes are Easy's eyes, even though I've got my contacts in now. As I turn to walk away, I slap my left hand on the pillar and then I run. I have to take it on trust she's seen what I've written and would take it on board.

* * *

When night falls, Alice and I set off for the campus again and fortunately the TV crews and arc lights have all gone. We wait in the parking lot until about one in the morning. By then the area is totally deserted and it's safe for me to start painting.

The first picture is a diagram of the Cascadia Subduction Zone plus a line drawing of the coastline from just above Vancouver in Canada down to the Pacific edge of the Olympic Peninsula as far as Oregon. Underneath the painting I write 'Megathrust 9.0' which is the magnitude of the quake on the Richter scale plus the map co-ordinates of where the earthquake is going to strike. Also under this picture I write the date and time the quake is due to happen, which is 8.03pm on Monday, May 8th.

The second picture is a map of the land that will be _seriously_ affected by the quake, which is as far north as Vancouver Island and Vancouver City, west taking in the Olympic Peninsula, east into the national forests that surround Seattle, and south taking in Seattle and all the towns as far down as Portland. The quake would be felt all over Oregon, Idaho, northern California and probably Montana and the Alaskan islands, but it shouldn't cause catastrophic damage that far away.

The next picture is a graphic image of a hundred-foot tidal wave hitting the city; it's height projected against the Space Needle. The final picture shows the vast area that will be underwater after the wave comes ashore then continues to move inland as a treacherous wall of water pushes everything before it. I cover the land in blue so it's obvious what I'm trying to portray.

It's four in the morning when I've finished and we haven't been disturbed once. We creep back to the car avoiding the range of a security camera and drive straight back to the house. Carlisle is waiting for us when we get in but before he has a chance to open his mouth I say, "Don't ask," and race up to my room.

As I walk into the shower and blast my skin with steaming hot water, I know there's no going back for me now and mine and Alice's fates are sealed if the Volturi discover what we've done. But if I can't save Bella then my life to be frank isn't worth living.

And that's when I realise that if I'm going to die at the hands of the Volturi anyway, what's stopping me being with Bella once she's escaped the city, even if it is only for a day, a week, or a month? With that supremely selfish thought in mind my brain drops into sordid-mode again and I really do enjoy my shower.

* * *

 **So now the family knows what's going on and are preparing to leave the city. Carlisle seems to have accepted what Edward has done as a fait accompli, so now he has to focus on getting his family away from danger.**

 **We're back to where we left Bella staring at the mural that depicted disaster so what is she going to do? Time is of the essence, so it's a case of trying to convince someone in authority that this is actually going to happen, which is not going to be easy because who in their right mind would be ready to believe that somebody really can predict the future?**

 **Also, you might remember that when Bella left the art club and she was sitting in her car trying to decide whether Easy was Hoodie Guy, she was sure she'd seen Edward/Easy somewhere before (Chapter 12). Well you'll find out when and where that was in the next chapter.**

 **OMG!**

 **Joan xx**


	20. Chapter 20

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY**

* * *

 **Bella**

I'm rooted to the spot as the horror of what Jay and I are staring at sinks in.

If Hoodie Guy is right in his prediction, the building we're standing in front of right now will quite probably be a pile of rubble in less than a week's time. But even if it does survive the quake, it will definitely be submerged under I can't begin to imagine how many feet of water, which is too terrifying to even contemplate. Selfishly my eyes are fixed on the final mural and I'm devastated to see that Forks is situated well inside the danger zone for the tsunami. I know the main part of the town is elevated to almost a hundred feet above sea level so I can only hope and pray that by the time the wave reaches it, it will have lost most of its height and power.

I automatically pull my camera from my bag and take several shots of each picture, plus a separate shot of the date and time of the quake. While I'm doing this, just for a moment I feel strangely calm as though this is a bad dream and it isn't really happening to me. But this could possibly be due to the fact that I now know where all the intrigue and subterfuge has been heading. My initial guess that Hoodie Guy was preparing us for some earth-shattering information has been vindicated and, to put it bluntly, the mystery behind the murals isn't a mystery anymore.

While I'm taking the photos, Jay is scanning the parking lot searching for Hoodie Guy but doesn't have any luck. He does spot some security cameras mounted in several places but doubts whether any will have caught a clear image of this being painted, especially as it was done overnight. But when I've finished taking my photos, the enormous responsibility Jay and I have inherited hits me again and I go cold. I'm on a roller coaster of emotions once more and I'm aware there's only so much I can take without ending up in a straight-jacket.

"What are we going to do now?" I ask Jay and I know I sound slightly frantic. "We can't carry on keeping this to ourselves anymore. This is deadly serious. We're going to have to come clean about Hoodie Guy's predictions as soon as we get back."

"I agree," he replies and starts punching numbers into his phone. After a few seconds the call is answered.

"Jim," he barks. "We're on the campus now but we're coming straight back to the office; we should be there in about half an hour. And Jim, I don't care what you and the Mayor have planned for the rest of the afternoon; we need to see you both urgently."

I can't hear Jim's response but Jay's face starts to turn purple with rage.

"Listen to me, Jim," he hisses. "This is not a drill. If I told you we'd just found out that a bomb was about to go off in Seattle, you and the Mayor would find time to see us. What Bella and I have discovered is infinitely worse. Do you get where I'm coming from?"

There's definitely a raised voice on the other end but Jay just responds with, "I don't fucking care, Jim. Do whatever you have to do, but you've got half an hour to ensure the Mayor is ready to see us as soon as we walk out the elevator. Get it?"

Jay disconnects the call without waiting for Jim's response. "Fucking imbecile," he grunts then grabs hold of my arm and propels me towards the car at rapid speed. "Keys," he snaps as the car comes in sight. I don't argue but hand them to him knowing he'll drive much faster than I'm capable at the moment as my brain is still away with the fairies.

I wait until we've got onto the freeway before speaking.

"How do you want to play this?" I ask even though we really don't have any options.

"We show them the photos of the earlier murals and the dates they were painted first. Then we show them the news reports which proves this guy can predict the future and then we hit them with the ones we've just seen. We'll have to play it by ear from then on. They're bound to be dismissive but we've got to stand our ground. If they ignore the message then we've got no option to go to the news media with our story."

"We'll both be out of a job if we do that, Jay," I reply then instantly realise that's a stupid thing to say because if there's no city left on Tuesday morning, neither Jay nor I will have a job anyway, as assessing and removing graffiti won't be high on the list of priorities for a city that's just been smashed to pieces.

"Our jobs aren't important?" he practically growls. "If Hoodie Guy's right, we're looking at a disaster which might be even worse than what happened in Indonesia and Thailand ten years ago or whenever that was. Could you live with yourself if you hadn't done your utmost to warn the city and the rest of the state?"

"No, of course not," I reply and shudder as I recall the humanitarian disaster which devastated that area.

I don't know how many traffic violations Jay breaks to get us back to the office in record time. When we drive into the parking lot he flings Freddie into somebody else's space which is closer to the elevator to save a few more precious seconds, then we run into the building. As soon as we're travelling upwards he barks his instructions at me.

"When we get to our floor I'll go straight to Jim's office and physically drag him out from there if I have to. While I'm doing this, can you collect all the evidence we have about dates, lottery numbers and the like and I'll see you back at the elevator. Okay?"

"Okay," I reply but I'm starting to feel sick with anxiety about what's going to happen in the next half hour.

The elevator doors open and Jay turns right towards Jim's office and I turn left and head for ours. I've already got a complete set of Hoodie Guy's murals in a file but I have to search on Jay's tip of a desk for the copy of the lottery numbers one where he'd ringed them in pairs. I stick my camera chip in the computer and quickly print off the photos I took at Johnson Hall then find the saved news report of the Art Gallery and the 'Send Food' sign on the Space Needle and print that off, plus the reports of the Oregon shark attack and Beelzebub's storm damage. Armed with the evidence but still feeling nervous and apprehensive about how this is going to play out, I make my way back to the elevator to find Jay and Jim having a blazing row.

Jim turns to me and is about to tear into me as well but I stupidly start to cry. The first tear is falling down my cheek as my determination to hold it together disappears down the Swany River. I hate any sort of confrontation and always do my best to avoid it if possible, so seeing Jay being yelled at by our boss is the last straw. In the past ten days I'd had to come to terms with my dad's illness and then Jake's alarming animosity towards me, as well as everything weird that's happened to me since starting this job. Now Jay and I have got to convince a senior official that his city is going to be devastated by an earthquake and a tsunami, all on the strength of an anonymous guy who paints murals across the city. My whole world had gone bat-shit crazy.

Jay puts his arm around my shoulders and draws me in for a hug. "Hey, Bella; It'll be okay; don't worry."

I wipe my eyes and apologise. "I'm sorry; it's all a bit much for me to deal with. I'm being such a baby."

"No, you're not," Jay insists vehemently and tips my face up forcing me to look straight at him. "We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you, Bella Swan. _You_ are fucking amazing."

"I wish you'd just tell me what the hell is going on," Jim spits as the elevator arrives.

"You'll find out soon enough," Jay responds angrily as he punches in the number for the Mayor's floor.

As soon as the doors open on the sixtieth floor, Jay marches purposely towards the Mayor's office, by-passing Jan, the Mayor's secretary, who frantically starts buzzing her boss's office to warn him. Jim hurries behind him leaving me to bring up the rear. I manage to give Jan a weak smile as I rush past clutching the file of pictures and my handful of evidence.

I hear the Mayor before I can see him.

"What the hell's going on," he shouts as Jay bursts through the door.

"We have an emergency," Jay declares. "And _you_ are going to sit and listen to what Bella and I have to say and you're not to interrupt until we're done … Sir."

"Don't you fucking tell me what to do, Whitlock!" he retorts angrily as he jumps out of his chair. " _I'm_ the Mayor in this city, so remember who you're talking to or you'll be out of a job; period."

"Sack me if you like, Sir, because in the big scheme of things my employment is not the slightest bit important now. For once in your life listen and don't interrupt. It's to do with the murals which have been appearing all over the city. They're a warning."

"What sort of warning? Are these people terrorists?"

"No, and it's just one guy. Bella and I have seen him but we haven't been able to catch him or track him down."

The Mayor puts his hand up to stop Jay from saying any more and points at me.

"Bella Swan, I want _you_ to tell me what's been going on. Start from the beginning. And you, Whitlock, don't say another fucking word to me or I'm calling Security."

I draw a deep breath, walk over to the Mayor's desk and open my file showing the picture of the shark attack.

"As you know, Sir, this mural was painted during the early hours of Sunday morning, April 23rd. You went to see it yourself on Monday the 24th. On Wednesday April 26th, a diver off the coast of Oregon was attacked by a shark and she bit its dorsal fin in self-defence and the shark swam off. Here's the news report."

"Coincidence?" Jim comments and shrugs his shoulders.

I don't respond but turn to the mural of the restaurant and the Devil next. "This picture was painted on or around April 10th. On Saturday the 15th, a restaurant called Beelzebub's was hit by lightning and set on fire. Here's the news report."

Silence.

I pull out the lottery numbers and match it with the winning numbers. "These appeared the week before the draw."

"Holy Shit!" Jim exclaims. The Mayor still says nothing but he's back in his chair now and has his glasses on.

The Frye Art Museum and the Space Needle are next and without saying anything, I show him the corresponding photographs which match the murals. This time I hear the Mayor saying, "What the fuck!" under his breath and I know reality is starting to hit home.

I then spread out the scotch-taped picture of the football mural with my face on it. I'm pointing to my image as I explain, "I was still in Scotland when this was painted. Nobody apart from Jim and a lady from HR knew what I looked like. Also, this is the final score for the game which took place on the following weekend."

I clear my throat to make sure my voice doesn't come out as a squeak as now is crunch time and I'm feeling nervous.

"Jay and I have just come back from the University Campus where our psychic graffiti artist struck again last night. He painted on the side of Johnson Hall, which among other things is the home of the Pacific Northwest Seismic Network. The scientists there monitor seismic activity in the area including the San Andreas Fault and the Cascadia Subduction Zone off the coast. Our artist specifically chose this building because he's predicted there's going to be a massive earthquake next week, and Seattle and the surrounding area is going to be hit by a tsunami. Here's what he's drawn for our benefit."

I spread out the four hastily printed images of the timeline on the Mayor's desk and hear his sharp intake of breath. Without waiting for permission, Jim crosses to the other side of the desk and stands behind the Mayor while they examine the pictures, and I watch as both Jim's and the Mayor's faces drain of color. Then I produce the picture of the animals waiting to see a psychiatrist.

"As I'm sure you're aware, animals can sense natural disasters before they happen. He painted this picture a couple of weeks ago to alert us to this fact. Also, he's painted an up-turned nuclear submarine, which could happen if there's one in Puget Sound when the wave hits. If the sub's nuclear reactor leaks, it could leave this whole area polluted with radio-active matter for decades."

The Mayor is silent for a while then gets up out of his chair, goes over to the window and looks out over the Sound. It's a clear day and from this high up you can see past Bainbridge Island to the channel that leads to the ocean. I'm guessing he's imagining what could happen if a tsunami sweeps down the channel devastating everything in its path, including his home on the island. I'm starting to feel hopeful that he's going to take the necessary steps to warn the city, but as soon as he turns and opens his mouth I know he isn't buying it.

He focusses his ire on me and Jay.

"No-one can predict the future; it's just a magician's trick. This is bullshit," he spits at us then walks back to his desk and slams my file shut.

Even Jim gasps when he says that, but the Mayor hasn't finished yet.

"Do you honestly think I'm going to evacuate the city on the strength of some guy who's just had a bit of luck predicting events? This place is constantly hit by tremors. We have storms all the fucking time. He could've set light to that restaurant just to fit his agenda. The lottery numbers … okay, I get that's a difficult one and maybe the shark attack is a bit far-fetched, but there's not enough evidence here for me to order a mass evacuation of most of Washington state. Anyway, where is this guy? Why haven't you brought him in? You say you've seen him; what's stopped you catching him?"

"Because he runs fucking fast," Jay hisses. "I suggest when somebody faster than me catches him, you get him signed to the Mariners or the Seahawks, _if_ their arenas remain standing that is," he adds with contempt.

The Mayor is just about to retaliate to that sarcastic comment when Jim shouts, "Stop! For fuck-sake STOP! This is fucking serious."

"You mean you actually believe this shit?" the Mayor spits at him.

"I don't know," Jim replies. "But I'm not prepared to take the risk of ignoring this guy if the lives of my family are at risk. You can stay put on your island if you like, but my wife, kids and me, and even my fucking mother-in-law, are getting the hell outta here before Monday."

The Mayor huffs at this then waves my file at me. "Are these all his murals?" he snaps.

"No," I reply angrily. "He's predicted the winner of the Kentucky Derby on Saturday. He implied that 'Always Dreaming' is going to win. Admittedly it's one of the favorites, but this doesn't mean anything; you know it."

"So what are you going to do?" Jay interrupts and I can tell he's absolutely boiling with frustration with the Mayor. "Only you have the power to save lives at the moment. Bella and I have done our bit, but if you do nothing at all, then we're sending our evidence to every news channel and newspaper in the state, and Vancouver and Portland. Time's running out so you'd better make your mind up pretty damn quick."

The Mayor's mouth drops open and I can see a wave of panic spreading over his face. I guess the enormity of the situation is just taking hold of him and the responsibility for the residents of the city is bearing down on him, but doubt is still in his face and I watch as a look of determination crosses it, meaning he isn't going to be brow-beaten into a decision whatever Jay says. He stands up and points at both of us; his finger wagging constantly.

"Get the fuck outta my office, Whitlock, and you too Bella Swan, and you Jim O'Rourke. I don't want to hear any more about this ridiculous story. No-one can predict the future. This is the real world, not some stupid TV show. I'm not buying it and neither will anyone else with common sense. And Whitlock, if you go to the press with this, you can pack your desk and get out of this building. The same goes for you, Swan."

"Fuck you!" Jay spits and goes to leave the room. Jim follows him without saying a word but as the Mayor is shouting at us I have an idea, even though on the face of it it's a stupid one.

"Sir, have you ever seen the movie, Ghostbusters?" I say as I go to pick up my file but decide to leave it there so he can peruse the pictures after we've gone.

"What the hell, Swan," the Mayor growls, then adds in a curious tone. "How is that relevant?"

"There's a scene in it where Venkman and the other Ghostbusters are in the Mayor's office trying to convince him that Armageddon is about to rain down on his city. Like you he doesn't believe them; no sane person would. But then Venkman's almost exact words to the Mayor are,

" _If we're wrong, then lock us up. But if we're right … then you've just saved the lives of millions of registered voters."_

I turn on my heel and follow Jay and Jim out the door. They've heard what I said but I put my finger up to my lips for them not to say anything. I pull the door closed behind me but I don't shut it completely; I leave just a crack open so we can listen to his reaction.

"Wait," I whisper and start to count in my head. One, two, three. Still silence. Jan the secretary goes to say something to us but I signal her to be quiet as well.

Four, five, six, seven. Still nothing, but then I hear a movement. It's the Mayor picking up the phone.

Jan's phone buzzes. "Yes Sir," she replies.

"Jan, get me the head of the Pacific Northwest Seismic Network urgently. I don't care where he is; even if he's in Hawaii sunning his ass. I need to speak to him _immediately!"_

"Right away, Sir," she replies and replaces the receiver.

I shove Jay and Jim in the back and push them towards the elevator. Once inside and out of earshot of Jan, Jay throws his arms around me, lifts me off the floor and nearly squeezes me to death.

"That was effing brilliant, Swan. How the hell did you come up with that?"

"Ghostbusters is one of my favourite movies; I practically know the dialogue off by heart. Now I suggest we wait. We don't do anything or speak to anyone until we've heard from the Mayor. My guess is that he's going to get someone from PNSN up here to learn more about the fault line under the ocean; then he'll act. Luckily we had the tremor at the weekend so this should go a long way to convince the seismologists that the Big One is coming."

As the elevator plunges towards our floor, Jim turns to me and puts a friendly hand on my arm.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you guys earlier. You have to admit this is an extraordinary situation but I believe you've been acting in the best interests of the city. No matter what happens I'll support whatever you decide to do from now on."

"Thanks," I reply and I feel relieved that at least we've got his backing. "What are you going to do now," I ask him.

"Phone my wife," he says as he steps out the elevator. "I'm telling her to pack the house up and go to Denver where my folks are. I want her out of the city before the stampede begins." Jim actually runs towards his office, leaving us standing by the elevator.

"Coffee?" Jay offers.

"Please," I reply and wander back to the office feeling slightly wobbly. I'm coming down now from my adrenalin overload but I'm still feeling sick with anxiety. If someone gave me a bottle of Xanax right now I'd be tempted to swallow the whole effing lot and wake up when this is all over. I crash into my chair, put my head on the desk and cover it with my arms, as if doing this would shut out the crazy situation I've found myself in. I'm in a quandary what to do next as I feel helpless, but I still think I should be doing _something_. The only person who could help is my elusive stalker who may or may not be Easy, but there's no way of contacting him before Friday, unless ...

Jay returns with my coffee and a plate full of cookies, courtesy of Kirsty, who'd said I looked as though I'd seen a ghost when I came out the elevator. Even though I don't feel like eating I take one off the top and nibble at it while I think about my plan. Even if Hoodie Guy isn't Easy he may still be stalking my apartment, so if I leave another message in my window then maybe he'd be prepared to make contact. He said in his message that he would; maybe now's the time.

As I'm mulling this over and munching through a second awesome cookie, my cell phone buzzes and Charlie's face pops up on the screen. He wouldn't call me during working hours unless it was an emergency so I guess this must be urgent and I immediately start to panic. I hit the connect button and my hands are already shaking slightly as I'm expecting bad news.

"Hi dad," I say cheerily so he won't suspect the lump in my throat has just quadrupled in size.

"Bella, Jacob's disappeared," he growls. "He walked out the hospital a couple of hours ago when the guard went to the bathroom. The nursing staff couldn't physically stop him even though his arm was in a sling and he was limping badly. He was supposed to go straight to the Reservation and stay with Billy until his court date, but he's not appeared there. His mate Paul's disappeared too. I've just got in from fishing with Billy and his guess is that they may be heading towards Seattle to find you."

"What!" I shriek. "But Jake was badly injured five days ago. How the hell has this happened?"

"The doctor told Wayne that Jake's bones were healing at an unnatural rate, which is weird I know. I'm really worried, Bella. Is there anyone you can stay with? I don't want you out on the streets on your own until he's captured; can you do that?"

"Yes, dad; don't worry about me. I'll get a cab home and stay in Jessica's apartment. Don't panic, please. If I see him I'll call the police; I promise."

"The Seattle cops already have a description of him, Bells. Wayne's been on to them and stressed that he's highly dangerous. The only good thing is that there's no way Jacob could know where you work or live as I haven't told anyone in Forks; not even Sue."

"Thanks dad," I mutter.

I debate whether to tell him about the impending earthquake but decide not to overload him with bad news at this time. I'm going home on Friday night after work and not planning to come back to what's left of Seattle until after the quake, so I'd be in Forks with him when it happens. I'll make absolutely certain we're somewhere high up where there're no trees at 8.03 on Monday, so Charlie's safety is the one thing I don't have to worry about.

"I'd better go, dad. I'll call you as soon as I get in just to let you know I've got home safely, okay?"

"Okay, Bells. If I hear any more about Jacob I'll let you know. Love you."

"Love you too, dad."

I disconnect and look over to where Jay is staring at me.

"Nutter ex-boyfriend again?" he asks.

"Yep! He's on the loose and headed this way apparently. That's all I need at the moment."

"I'll drive you home in the Fiesta tonight, Bella. I can park it near where I live for free and I'll pick you up in the morning at eight-thirty, okay?"

"Okay, thanks," I reply gratefully.

I send Charlie a text to say I'm getting a ride home so he wasn't to worry. He texts back with a smiley face which makes me giggle. Charlie had learned a lot about social-media in the last few months which was something I never thought he'd do.

Jay and I don't bother doing any actual work during the rest of the afternoon. For a start there's no point, but frankly both of us are too wound up waiting to hear from the Mayor to do anything constructive. Jay has already made his mind up that if nothing had been done by noon tomorrow, he would contact the news channels and let them know absolutely everything.

At five-thirty we leave the office as normal and head down to the parking lot. When we're approaching Freddie I toss the keys at Jay then walk towards the passenger door. As I open it, I spot something small and round on the right-hand side of the windshield which has always been there but I'd never really noticed before or given a second thought to. I shriek, "Oh My God!" out loud when I take on board the terrifying consequences of what this bright-yellow, perfectly round, unsuspecting sticker could bring by declaring in bold, black letters its a ...

 **'Parking Permit**

 **Municipal Offices - Seattle'**

I go cold as I realise what this could mean for my safety. If Jake had noticed this badge when he spotted my car either outside Charlie's house or at Newton's store, he'd know exactly where I work, which means I'm possibly already in serious danger. I tell Jay what I suspect and get the standard, "Holy Shit," response.

As I drop into the passenger seat I'm working out that if Charlie called me a couple of hours ago to tell me that Jake had walked out of hospital a couple of hours previously, this means Jake could possibly be in city by now and could even be outside the building waiting for me. If I could just get home and stay there I know I'd be safe, and I'd definitely ask Jessica whether I could sleep on her sofa tonight.

Before Jay starts the car I call Charlie and tell him what's happened. He said he would get on to Wayne straight away and get him to ask the Seattle police to keep watch on the Municipal building and hopefully they'll pick him up quickly. He tells me to stay put in the building, but I assure him I'll be okay to go straight home as I have Jay with me.

We cautiously leave the safety of the parking lot and I'm watching out for anything suspicious as Jay drives me home. Luckily Jake being six feet seven means he'll be easy to spot in a crowd but I keep my cell in my hand ready to call the police just in case. The journey is uneventful and I breathe a sigh of relief when we turn into my street and start travelling uphill. Jay pulls up outside my apartment building and as I'm picking my work bag off the floor, thanking him and saying, "see you tomorrow," we hear the screech of brakes behind us followed by a loud thud, then another screech and another and then we hear a woman screaming blue murder.

Jay spins around to look out the back window while I crouch down in my seat as it's obvious something awful is happening outside, but all I hear is Jay shouting, "Holy Shit," again and then he jumps out the car yelling, "Stay there!"

* * *

 **Edward**

Bella can't see me, but I'm watching from the Volvo as she and Jay approach Johnson Hall where they take in the four murals in all their terrible glory. During the morning I'd been observing the reaction of students and staff as they wandered past, but I doubt whether any of them had taken my prediction seriously, even though the students who are studying seismology would know that this part of the world is under constant threat of a massive quake.

I watch Bella grip Jay's arm and I instantly feel jealous as he's having the pleasure of human contact with her, however platonic it is. For a moment I wonder whether there's any sort of romantic attachment between the two of them, but I guess not as he would've been more affection to her given the enormity of what they've just seen.

After a minute or so of staring at the murals, Bella starts taking photographs while Jay is scanning the parking lot, obviously looking for me. He gives up then calls someone on his cell, no doubt reporting on what he's seeing with his own eyes. I can't make out his words from this distance but I can tell he's having a blazing argument with whoever is on the other end of the phone which isn't surprising. He finishes the call then grabs Bella's arm and propels her across the lot towards the car.

They set off at speed. Jay is driving this time and I follow at a safe distance. I guess they're heading for the Municipal building so I hang back so they don't spot me. I'm right in my assumptions as I follow them all the way to the Tower and watch them turning into the underground parking lot before disappearing from view.

I park up and imagine what's going on up in the tower. No doubt Jay and Bella are trying to get their superiors to believe that some random, itinerant artist has the ability to predict the future and by now they're banging their heads against the wall in frustration. Persuading regular folks to believe this unexplainable fact would be like trying to convince anyone over the age of twelve that Santa, the Tooth Fairy and Bigfoot are really real.

I try to imagine what's going through Bella's head. I'm sure her first thoughts would be for the safety of her family and friends, so it's fortunate the center of Forks is just above the danger zone for the serious, life-threatening flooding. However the town would still be badly affected by the quake itself because of the quality of the buildings, plus it's surrounded by some of the tallest trees in North America. I just hope she realises this and is preparing to get her folks out in time.

As the afternoon passes the sky clouds over so it's safe for me to get out the car and stretch my legs. It's a mental need to do this rather than a physical one as I never get stiff from sitting too long. I wander up and down the street but never allow the front of the building to be out of sight as I don't want to miss her leaving. If her superiors believe her story, she'll probably stay later than usual co-ordinating the evacuation of the affected area. But when I spot people coming out of the building at five-thirty, I take an educated guess that the balloon hasn't gone up yet as no-one's thoughts I pick up have any notion of the impending disaster.

I watch the front entrance from the shadow of the Columbia building but Bella doesn't come out at the usual time. I see the red-haired girl leave then some other people Bella sometimes says goodbye to a couple of minutes later, but no sign of her or Jay. I'm just starting to assume she is staying late when I spot her car emerging from the underground lot. Jay is driving again so I note the way they're headed, which is in the direction of Bella's apartment.

I sprint back to the Volvo, spin the car in the road, floor the gas pedal and race to the corner and turn left to follow them. They're out of sight by now so I have to presume they're heading to her place. I turn a couple more corners and just see a flash of red ahead as they turn another corner. I'm right; he is driving her to her apartment which is unusual. I reflect on why she's not walking and come to the conclusion that she's probably really shaken up.

Just as I reach the same corner and I'm about to turn, a motorbike flashes in front of me causing me to slam on the brakes. Even though the bike is going very fast, I recognise straight away who's cut me up and it's that fucker, Jacob Black, riding pillion, with some other black-haired fucker up front. For a second I can't believe my eyes as this murderous bastard is supposed to be severely injured and should still be in hospital under guard, but that's of no matter now. A red mist comes over my eyes and I put my foot hard down on the gas and scream around the corner in front of on-coming traffic almost causing an accident, then I race up the hill at top speed, straight through a red light and keep going. I can see just the bike ahead and watch as it slows down so it doesn't overtake Bella's car.

Jay and Bella are just about to turn into her street so I floor the gas pedal again and catch up with Black's bike which has stopped at the junction at the bottom of the hill. They're obviously waiting to see if she pulls in so I hang back until they move again. I'm guessing Jay must be slowing down near to Bella's apartment by now and I watch as the bike turns the corner and immediately pulls over on the opposite side of the street. Black slides off the bike which then pulls away without him and heads up the hill past Bella's apartment which is about two hundred yards away on the opposite side of the street. I figure Black will have to cross over at some point so I sit at the junction biding my time, not caring that I'm holding up the traffic behind me. As I watch him I notice he's limping badly and his left wrist is in plaster, but he still manages to head up the hill after Bella at speed and I know it's now or never.

I turn across the traffic just as Black steps off the sidewalk without looking. He's about three striding paces into the road but stops when he sees my car approaching as he's obviously presuming I'm going to pass in front of him. Instead I purposely swerve at the last second and slam into him at full speed, knocking him high into the air. He crashes onto the road behind me with a satisfying thud but I'm not finished with him yet. I ram the car into reverse and drive backwards straight over him before he has a chance to get up and I aim for his head. I drive forward over his body again then spin the car around on the hand brake and run over him for a third time then head back the way I came, which is the wrong way down a one-way street. I can hear someone screaming behind me so there's definitely been a witness and I curse. I just hope whoever's spotted me hasn't managed to take note of my license plate.

I can see from my seat that the hood of the Volvo has been badly damaged so I shoot down a side street and into a multi-storey parking lot where I hide for the next few hours. I can hear police sirens blaring and also the distinctive sound of an ambulance, which I hope is unnecessary as I presume Black is dead. I'd warned him I'd kill him if he went anywhere near Bella again and whatever my other faults, I always keep my promises. I don't feel the slightest bit guilty about what I've done, which I suppose harks back to the days when humans were my prey. Criminals were always my first choice for sustenance, and in my mind I'd just rid the world of a dangerous psychopath without actually having to suck the life out of him.

I use my time in the parking lot to beat out the dents in the bodywork with my fists and make a pretty good job of it. Luckily Jacob didn't bleed all over the car but I make sure there are no strands of hair on the tires or anything else which could connect me to the crash. I call Alice and tell her what's happened and she says she'll call me back if the police turn up at the house looking for me and the car. By nine o'clock she hasn't called so I presume no-one has reported my license plate and I'm safe to drive home, but I'm not ready to go back just yet.

It's dark by now so I leave the car and cautiously walk to Bella's street. There's fluttering red and white tape around the spot where Black was splatted and a police notice up asking for witnesses. There's also one unoccupied patrol car outside the store but other than this, it's a normal, quiet Wednesday night with people coming and going along the sidewalks.

I'm still wary though as I approach Bella's building just in case the police are still with her. Her car is nowhere in sight so I presume Jay was dropping her off and has probably gone home by now. I wonder then whether she'd been tipped off that Black wasn't in Forks which was why Jay had driven her home. If I ever meet the guy and find out this is the case, I'll shake him by the hand.

I walk past Bella's alleyway and automatically look up at her windows to see if she's there. The drapes are still open and both windows are brightly lit, then I notice there's a new sign in the window. There's also an identical one in the kitchen window which is much easier for me to read from the street.

 _Come up_ _! I'm staying up all night until you do. Please use the stairs this time. It's a lot_ _EASIER_ _!"_

I press my back against the alley wall and take some unnecessary breaths while I digest the fact that she's obviously worked out that I'm Easy, or is this just an educated guess? I'd promised her I would make contact after the reveal, but I'm still mentally unprepared to speak to her as ME; the person who's been predicting the future, even though it's Alice who has the skill.

As I'm drinking in her scent and deciding what to do next, I hear the outside door to her building being opened from the inside and I know this is my opportunity to get in without pre-warning her. I hold the door open for the young couple who are walking out and say 'Good Evening' to them then close the door behind me.

I scale the stairs and I'm outside what is obviously her door in seconds but I can't go any further until I've completely got used to her scent again. I let at least two minutes go by until I feel I'm in control enough to knock, and when I do I hear a shriek coming from inside. I take several steps away from the door until my back is pressed against the opposite wall so she can see it's me through the spyhole. I hear the lock turn and Bella opens the door a few inches, and then a few more, and then she flings the door open wide but she doesn't say anything for about five seconds.

"Easy," she eventually breathes as she stares straight into my eyes.

"Actually it's Edward," I reply. "Edward Cullen."

She goes to say something but I notice her face is becoming flushed. I rush forward and just managed to catch her as she collapses into my arms like a rag doll. I scoop her up, kick the door closed behind me and carry her over to the sofa where I hold her close until she comes round.

As she opens her eyes she looks confused for a few seconds then she realises where she is. I'm expecting her to struggle; instead she reaches up and touches my cold face with her warm hand but doesn't recoil as I'm expecting her to.

"Your face reminds me of Michelangelo's statue of David," she whispers. "Your skin is like marble," she adds and I can see wonder in her eyes.

"One day I'll tell you a story about Michelangelo," I reply. "You don't know how close to the truth you are."

She looks into my eyes again but there's no fear in them. I can't read her mind but I know she's already accepted she's dealing with the supernatural.

"Are you Michelangelo, Edward?" she asks as she touches my face again.

"No," I laugh and bend over her and gently kiss her forehead then I brush her gloriously soft hair away from her face and look her straight in her eyes as I justify my comment.

"Michelangelo was my student and my friend, Bella. Years later, when he was at his absolute peak, he asked me to pose for him. So I can tell you, completely honestly, that you're in the arms of the man who was and always shall be, the living manifestation of the Statue of David."

* * *

 **So _that's_ where she'd seen him before - standing on a pedestal in the Galleria dell'Accademia in Florence. **

**If you take a look at the statue (just look up at the face, girls, not lower down; up up up, look-at-the-face), 'David's' profile has got an 'Edward' look about it. The jawline could be a bit sharper, but there's definitely a resemblance to the original, IMHO.**

 **A lot of you guessed the connection with Michelangelo, as 1564 was the year he died. You'll learn more about Edward's long history when he tells Bella how and when he was created, but not just yet.**

 **So Jake has been splatted again. Do you think he's going to recover from being catapulted into the air then run over three times? I can hear you all shouting, "Noooooo!"**

 **I hope you liked the reference to Ghostbusters. I always loved that scene in the movie. You can almost see the Mayor's brain working as he realises that Armageddon could actually be good for him politically. Politicians are the same the world over aren't they (well most are); it's all about getting re-elected? Lucky Bella had that Ace up her sleeve or the Mayor would still be in denial.**

 **Next time, something really amazing happens that quite a few of you have already guessed (dammit). I'm leaving it at that. (But it isn't 'that' before you ask).**

 **Joan xx**

PS: I should have said **'that yet'** ;)


	21. Chapter 21

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

* * *

 **Bella**

I'm finally alone in my apartment and I'm determined to hold it together, even though a couple of hours ago I'd witnessed my ex-boyfriend being hauled off to hospital in an ambulance; _hauled_ being the appropriate word as it took four guys to lift him onto the stretcher. I still can't believe he was still alive when the paramedics arrived as a witness said he'd been run over at least three times, but he was just about breathing when they took him away.

Neither Jay nor I saw it happen; we just heard it. Apparently the car knocked him in the air, reversed over him, drove forward, spun around then drove over him again before driving off, but the one and only credible witness didn't have her glasses on so couldn't read the car's license plate. She just reported to the police that the car was silver, had tinted windows and was an unusual shape.

Jacob was face-down and unconscious after the accident, but when the paramedics turned him over I could see he was clutching an evil-looking serrated-edge knife in his right hand; the tip of which was now embedded in his throat under his chin. This was the moment when my legs went from underneath me and Jay had to help me back to the car as I was on the point of collapsing. I was convinced then that Jake had intended to kill me, or at least kidnap me if he'd caught me, so whoever the driver was he had probably saved my life.

He, (of course it could've been a she I suppose), may have just spotted a guy with a knife in his hand and was a spur of the moment vigilante, or someone had been watching my back, like in Forks on Saturday. What was worrying me the most though was how easily Jacob had tracked me down just from the parking permit in my car and had somehow managed to follow me home, which must mean Paul could still in the vicinity somewhere. My guess was he'd witnessed what happened to Jake and had made a run for it.

The police were very kind when I admitted I knew Jacob. I told them to contact Forks Police who would fill them in with everything they needed to know about his crazy obsession with me. Fortunately they believed me when I said I had no idea who was in the car but I suppose being the daughter of a Chief of Police probably helped convince them I was telling the truth. After they'd checked my story with Forks Police then taken mine and Jay's statements, they left after assuring me that if Jacob survived this time, he would be held under armed guard in hospital and I wouldn't have to worry about him escaping any more. I wanted to believe this, but until Jake is permanently behind bars I don't think I'll ever be able to relax. When the police finally left, Jay stayed with me in my apartment for about an hour until I convinced him I was okay and he could go home.

I called Charlie while Jay was here to tell him what had happened. He already knew the basics as he'd just been on the phone with Billy who was in a car on the way to the hospital. I told Charlie that whoever knocked Jake down did it deliberately so there was a guardian angel in a silver car out there looking out for me. I didn't say this to him but I had a feeling I knew who it was.

Even though I'd succeeded in convincing Jay I was okay before I pushed him out the door, it's obvious I'm not. There's only so much a girl can take in one day and I'm definitely feeling worn out, light-headed and totally shell-shocked. Finding out about the catastrophic earthquake and tsunami was the start of it. Having a showdown with Jim and then the Mayor was next. Seeing Jake badly injured on the road was the final straw for me, and all of this on top of Charlie being terminally ill and my sort-of-obsession with Hoodie Guy being in the back of my mind the whole time.

I wash my face and change out of my work clothes, putting on an over-sized, warm sweatshirt with some almost-new jogging pants I'd bought in Scotland with the intention of running in. They'd yet to experience me breaking into anything more than a fast walk but at least they're comfy and perfect for relaxing in, which is what I need to do. I make myself a pile of toast and a mug of hot chocolate, put my new electric fire on and curl up under a blanket on the sofa.

I haven't bothered to close the drapes and as I munch my toast, I stare at the remnants of the message Hoodie Guy had drawn on the window. It had almost disappeared due to the rain, which was fortunate as I would've had a lot of explaining to do if Jay had noticed it while he was here. In the message Hoodie Guy had promised to make himself known to me when I'd worked out the meaning behind the murals. It was well and truly worked out now, so I couldn't figure out why he hadn't tried to make contact with either of us, unless of course he considered it was still too dangerous, even though I had no idea what he meant by this.

As I stew over this, I take the decision that this cat and mouse game has gone on long enough. I drag myself off the sofa feeling determined to bring this to a head, so using another sheet of paper from the bundle Jessica gave me, I write him a message in big, bold letters. In fact I write it twice, one for each window so he won't miss it.

 _Come up_ _! I'm staying up all night until you do. Please use the stairs this time. It's a lot_ _EASIER_ _!"_

"Ha!" I proclaim out loud when I write the word 'Easier'. If he is the outrageously good-looking Mr Golden Eyes, then he'll know I've worked out it's him.

I stick the message in the windows, turn on every light in the apartment which hopefully will keep me from falling asleep, and wait, and wait. I don't even put the TV on so I can hear him coming up the stairs, but I'm not holding out much hope that, (a) he's out there, or (b), he'll take the bait.

At around nine-thirty I'm considering making some coffee to help me stay awake when I have the feeling he's outside my door. I haven't heard anyone enter the building or come up the stairs, and no-one has knocked, but my instincts are telling me he's there. I don't feel frightened, but the familiar prickly feeling is travelling down my spine again, my breathing rate has increased rapidly and I can feel my blood thumping in my ears as I wait for the knock. When it finally comes I shriek.

My legs are like jell-o as I roll myself off the sofa and make my way to the door. I can sense my face is on fire and I feel as though I should be sweating I'm so hot. I touch my forehead with the back of my hand to check; it's bone dry but my skin feels as though it's burning. I try to look through the spy hole but the image is just a fuzzy blur as though I can't focus my eyes.

I take a deep breath, get hold of the handle and open the door a crack so I can peer out onto the dimly lit corridor. He's there, standing with his back against the far wall almost as though he's frightened of me. He's absolutely still, and when I say still, he's like a cardboard cut-out. His face doesn't move; his body doesn't move; it's like he's frozen to the spot.

It's plainly evident when I look at him that I'm in the presence of someone who isn't your average, normal human. This guy, Easy, or whatever his name really is, is different to any man I'd seen before; how, I cannot explain. He just looks unworldly standing in my hallway and even more so now than when I had my first close look at him at the art club. There he reminded me of a character from a Renaissance painting. Now, in this light, he resembles a classical statue which has jumped off its pedestal, got dressed, and is now propped up in my hallway.

I can feel my face getting hotter as I open the door and the light seeping from my room illuminates him fully. His 'not-so-golden' eyes are fixed on me and I feel as though I'm in the presence of a Greek god who has returned to earth. I've never before seen such a beautiful man in my entire life and my head starts to swim. I manage to mumble 'Easy' to let him know I recognize him and hear him reply his name is Edward and then everything suddenly goes black.

I come round in his arms which is a shock. We're on the sofa and he's holding me gently against his chest while I return to the land of the living. I notice his hands are cold; I can feel them through my sweatshirt. Then I realize there's no warmth emanating from the rest of his body either which is strange. At least this is helping to bring my temperature down but it feels as though I'm lying on a refrigerated slab on a hot day.

I stare up at his face and realize that in this light, his ivory-colored skin really does resemble marble. I can't stop myself but have to touch it, so I gently run my fingertips over his cheek and surprisingly he doesn't object. His skin is soft and smooth, but seems to be stretched over a hard surface. There's no 'give' under my fingers and that's all the evidence I need to convince me that Edward is not of this world.

As I examine his face I realize where I've seen it before and my mind flashes back to a precious afternoon almost a year ago when I stood before his likeness in Florence and marveled at the epitome of manliness towering above me.

"Your face reminds me of Michelangelo's statue of David," I whisper. "Your skin is like polished marble," I add to support my observation.

"One day I'll tell you a story about Michelangelo," he replies quietly and there's a hint of humor and also a trace of the strange accent in his voice again, which hadn't been there when I spoke to him at the art club. "You don't know how close to the truth you are," he adds as he searches my face possibly for clues as to what I'm thinking.

"Are you Michelangelo, Edward?" I ask and it's a genuine question. I don't believe in reincarnation but if he confirmed to me he was Michelangelo in a previous life I would totally believe him.

"No," he laughs and then he bends over me and gently touches his lips against my forehead then brushes my hair away from my face. He looks pained for a second as though he's debating what to say next and then he smiles at me.

"Michelangelo was my student and my friend, Bella. Years later, when he was at his absolute peak, he asked me to pose for him. So I can tell you, completely honestly, that you're in the arms of the man who was and always shall be, the living manifestation of the Statue of David."

I freeze in his arms as I digest what he's just divulged to me. I believe him, but by this he must mean that he'd been Michelangelo's teacher in a previous life. I swallow several times before asking him my next question.

"Have you lived before, Edward?"

He shakes his head and pulls me into his chest even closer. I guess he doesn't want to see my face when he tells me what he means by his statement, just in case I'm shocked at what I wouldn't be able to guess in a million years.

"No, Bella, I'm not reincarnated," he replies almost apologetically. "In fact I'm not anyone you've ever heard of. I've lived many lives, but I've never been reborn. What I mean by this is that my memory goes back to the time before the Renaissance."

He moves me on his lap then so he can properly see my face before he carries on telling me his story.

"For a while I studied at Ghirlandaio's workshop in Florence, which I guess you already know was where Michelangelo perfected his craft. By the time Michelangelo first came to us as a young man in the late 1400's, I had already established myself as a teacher there. But Michelangelo wasn't there long before it became plainly evident there was nothing I could teach him, and in fact I effectively became a student of his and we became good friends. I walked the streets of that city with him for several seasons, and then Venice and Bologna and finally Rome, where I was with him when he died in 1564. I also collaborated with other artists of that time when they needed help on projects and spoke several times with the genius, Da Vinci, but he was suspicious of me so I let him be."

As Edward is quietly telling me his story above my head, I listen in wonder as he tells me about his incredible past. I want to believe him, but this would mean he's between five and six hundred years old, because Michelangelo was nearly ninety when he died in 1564, and my brain cannot compute this anomaly. I'm in the arms of a strong, young man; not Methuselah. He's stops speaking for a moment then sighs and carries on talking.

"Over the centuries I've worked with painters and sculptors whose works are now scattered all over the world. I could tell you what was in their hearts when they created their masterpieces, Bella. I can remember the smell of their studios. I lived with their poverty as very few of them were wealthy. I can recall their despair when their art didn't turn out as they wished or was rejected by their sponsors. I've grieved a thousand times as these artists passed away and I'm left with only memories. As I said, I've lived many lives, Bella, but they roll on one after another, never ending."

He goes quiet again and I presume he's giving me time to digest what he's imparted, which is mind-blowing. I have no reason to doubt him because the man who is holding me is not a man in the true sense of the word, but what is he? I need him to start from the beginning so ask him an obvious question.

"How old are you, Edward?"

I didn't realize he'd been tense while he was talking to me because when I ask him this he relaxes his arms so I don't feel 'imprisoned' in his embrace anymore; not that I'm complaining of course. He touches my cheek gently with his cool fingertips then turns my face so I'm looking up at him. I can see he has a look of incredulity in his eyes, as though he's trying to work me out.

"Aren't you curious about how I've lived for so long? Aren't you concerned that I'm not the same as you? Are you not frightened of me for those reasons?"

"No," I reply. "Why should I be frightened of you?" and then add, _"Should_ I be frightened of you, Edward?"

"Absolutely not," he insists vehemently. "I'm not going to hurt you, Bella. I'm just amazed that you aren't running from me, because most humans would as it's a natural instinct to distance yourself from something you don't understand."

I pull myself up so we're on eye-level and place my hands on either side of his face, primarily to show him that I'm not frightened of him, but also because I want him to know I'm sincere about what I'm just about to say to him.

"I knew you were different from the moment I laid eyes on you at the Aquarium, Edward. I've never been frightened of you, even when you were here in my room watching me sleep. You're an artist, Edward, and I learned something of your soul when I saw your drawings and how you painted them. I haven't been on this earth as long as you; I doubt nobody has, but I've spent my formative years looking into the souls of artists and studying them, and I've fallen in love with them as I learned more about them through their work."

Edward opens his mouth to say something but I touch his lips with my finger to stop him and then I smile as I know how I'm going to placate him.

"I want to show you something, Edward, and tell you _my_ story. A year ago I went to Florence and fell in love for the first time in my life. I have a picture of the man I fell in love with on my cell phone and I want to show him to you. You may know him."

"I seriously doubt it," he growls. "I'm going to kill the bastard when I meet him though."

I reach behind me and grab my phone which is on my excuse for a coffee table and hit the on button. Displayed on the screen is the object of my desire; 'object' being the appropriate word in this case. I snuggle into Edward again and show him the picture.

"Hmmmm," he sighs sounding relieved. "So you've been in love with me for a whole year already then?"

"Absolutely," I confirm and then I giggle like a schoolgirl. "Is this a true likeness, Edward, in _every_ way?"

He looks at me strangely and then howls with laughter as he catches on to what I'm getting at.

"Are you willing to find out?" he says and then he realizes what he's implied and starts to back-track. "I'm sorry; that comment was totally inappropriate of me. I apologise, Bella."

"Don't apologize," I say then sit up again and boldly kiss his lips. "I'm willing, but I've a feeling you're not. Am I right?"

Edward nods his head and looks down at his hands which are now in tight fists.

"It's not that I don't want to, Bella. I've wanted to ever since I opened the door for you in the store and even more so when we met at the art club. I don't think I could control myself if I made love to you and I could end up hurting you."

I was at a loss what to say, but when I thought about it I know I have to ask _the_ question, even though I'm not bothered what the answer is.

"Edward, you're obviously not an ordinary human, so what are you? Don't keep it a secret from me; I need to know and I promise I won't run."

Edward shakes his head from side to side and I can see he's fighting an internal battle with himself. If he told me he was from Venus I couldn't care. If he told me he'd sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for eternal life I couldn't care either; I just needed to know.

I wait patiently until he lifts his face and looks at me. His right hand brushes my hair from my cheek but he holds it there as he opens his mouth to speak.

"Bella, I'm ….."

At that exact moment my cell rings and I see Charlie's face appear on the screen. I'm torn whether to answer it or ignore it and listen to what Edward has to say. In the end I grab the phone and hit the button.

"Hi dad! Is everything okay?"

"Bella, the hospital's just rung," he replies excitedly. "They've found a possible donor. I've got to get to Seattle tonight and be ready to have the operation. I'm just calling you to ask you to meet me there. I want to see you before they give me the anesthetic just in case I don't wake up."

"Oh My God," I shriek. "How are you getting there?"

"The Park Ranger's helicopter's on its way to pick me up now. I guess I'll get to the hospital in just over an hour. Can you meet me there?"

"Of course I will; which hospital, dad?"

"University of Washington Medical Center in Pacific Street; they're calling the transplant team now."

"Does this mean you're having the operation tonight?"

"I don't know; I'll find out more when I get there. I can't believe it, Bella. I never thought this would happen. I've gotta go; I've gotta get a bag packed."

"Okay dad. Don't forget to call Sue. If she calls round for you tomorrow and you don't reply she'll think you're dead."

Charlie laughs at this and assures me he would call her then hangs up.

I'm still sitting on Edward's lap who has heard every word. He puts his arms around me and pulls me into his chest again and as he holds me I start to cry as I can't believe my prayers are being answered for once. I'd resigned myself to being alone in the world before the end of the year. Now Charlie was possibly getting a transplant and I'm in the arms of a man who may or may not be immortal. Life doesn't get much better or stranger than this.

And then I remember the earthquake and the tsunami.

And dad would probably still be in High Dependency when it hit.

And the hospital was in the danger zone.

"Oh Shit!"

"What's the matter," Edward asks as I'm sure I've stopped breathing when the implications of what was going to happen hit home.

"The hospital, Edward. It'll be hit by the tsunami. Even if it doesn't get destroyed by the earthquake, it'll probably lose all its power when it's flooded. We've got to warn them."

"We can't," Edward replies and pulls me towards him again and kisses the top of my head. "We can't do anything until the Mayor declares an emergency. Hopefully this'll give the hospital enough time to evacuate the patients. Don't worry about it for now. Let's get to the hospital so you can see your dad."

"I'll call a cab," I say as I make moves to climb off his lap.

"No need; my car is a few blocks away. You sort yourself out while I get it and I'll see you outside in five, okay?"

"Okay," I say gratefully and kiss him then run to the bathroom to clean my face while he walks out the door.

I stare at my puffy eyes in the mirror wondering what the hell this gorgeous man sees in me. But if he isn't a man, what is he? Was he just about to tell me when Charlie called? It would take us a while to drive to the hospital so I could ask him again in the car, but as I said to him I didn't care what he was because I was already hopelessly in love with him.

* * *

 **Edward**

I run down the hill to the parking lot and retrieve the Volvo from its hiding place then cautiously drive back to Bella's street, hoping the police aren't on the lookout for a silver Volvo in the area. Even though I'm certain no-one memorized my license plate as it would've been reported by now, I'm sure my car had been described to the police and silver Volvo's were not a common sight around Seattle. Also my tire treads would certainly match the ones on Black's clothing so I'd have to change these as soon as I get home as it's inevitable the cops will check every silver Volvo in a fifty mile radius.

Bella is already on the sidewalk when I pull up. I noticed her catch her breath when she sees the car approaching so I guess she's already put two and two together and realizes this is the car which forced Black to kiss the asphalt. As she climbs in she turns to me and I'm expecting her to question me, but instead she says, "Thank you, Edward."

"What for?"

"For saving my life today and I'm guessing last Saturday as well. Jacob was going to kill me this time for definite. He had a pretty nasty-looking knife in his hand when the paramedics turned him over. How on earth did you find out he was in Seattle?"

"It's a long story, Bella, and I promise I'll tell you everything soon, but let's just concentrate on your dad now. While I'm driving you can tell me all about him, okay?"

"Okay," she says quietly and places her hand on my forearm and gives it a gentle squeeze, then she grins as I'm not very pliable.

The roads are relatively quiet at this time of night so I guess it won't take us long to get to the hospital. I keep well within the speed limit though as I don't want to attract the attention of any cops, especially with Bella in the car which wouldn't look good. On the journey, Bella tells me about her family circumstances, starting with her mother and her lecherous step-father which was the reason she'd moved back to live with her dad for the last few years of high school. She told me she'd dated Jacob Black for about six months and then escaped from Forks leaving him frustrated and furious. Then she told me her father had been diagnosed with liver cancer in January and his only hope of survival was a transplant but this could only be carried out if the cancer hadn't spread. She also said he had a weird blood type so the chances of finding a donor were a million to one, so this opportunity would no doubt be his one and only chance of survival.

She hero-worshiped her father and said she now wished she'd lived with him and not gone to Florida with her mom when the marriage failed. He sounded like a great guy and I hoped for her sake he survived the operation and then the evacuation. If the Mayor didn't act, I'd have to try to enlist the help of Carlisle who may have contacts who could get him moved. Other than this, her father's survival was now at the mercy of either the Mayor or Mother Nature.

She hadn't told me yet what the reaction of her bosses was when she reported to them what she'd seen drawn on Johnson Hall so I ask her.

"The Mayor didn't believe us at first," she replies philosophically. "I can't blame him though; no-one in their right mind would accept that someone was able to predict the future without more evidence."

"What do you mean by 'at first'," I ask. "Does he believe you now?"

"I don't know. When we left his office he was calling the seismic guys at PNSN. I'm sure we'll hear tomorrow morning what's happening. If he doesn't do anything, Jay is going to let the press know. It's our only option."

I feared this would happen if the city didn't take the bait. If the press got hold of it I might as well call Aro and tell him what I'd done as it would get back to him instantly, and then he'd have the bona fide excuse he'd been desperately waiting for to order me back to Volterra and that would be it for me. My only chance of surviving this was if the Mayor and his subordinates and the press never mentioned the fact that a psychic had predicted the disaster but were acting on scientific evidence alone.

"Can you really predict the future, Edward?" Bella asks.

"No, _I_ can't, but I know someone who can ... "

I was going to add, 'Is it okay just to leave it like that for the moment?' but Bella interrupts.

"You mean someone like _you_. Do you know other people like you, who live a long time?"

"Yes, but don't ask me any more questions for a while, Bella. I'm not ready to tell you the whole story yet, but can you trust me that I will soon?"

"Okay," she replies and I can tell she's disappointed.

"I promise," I repeat then I take hold of her left hand, bring it up to my mouth and kiss it. She smiles up at me and I know she believes me. However I still haven't decided whether to tell her the whole truth about why I am as I am as I know she'll run away screaming, and selfishly I don't want this; at least not yet.

We arrive at the hospital just after ten-thirty and park nearby. I offer to wait in the car but she asks me to come in with her. I'm reluctant to go but I can tell she needs support and it would be churlish of me to refuse. If the doctors are planning to operate tonight then she may be kissing her father goodbye for the last time. If the transplant doesn't take, there'll be no going back for him and he would probably die without coming round from the anesthetic.

As we walk towards the doors we hear the distinctive throbbing sound of a helicopter coming into land nearby. We can't see it but we guess it's her dad's ride which has got him here much quicker than anticipated. The Park Rangers must think really highly of him to gift him this trip I muse, which makes me believe Bella's gushing praise of him even more.

I let Bella go up to the reception desk where we're directed to a waiting area. I'm used to being in hospitals because of Carlisle's previous career and could tune out the smell of blood and other human scents which combine with all the other aromas associated with trauma. Anyway, sitting next to Bella and drinking in her scent is enough distraction from what's going on around me but I'm totally in control of my instincts now and she isn't in any danger from me anymore.

We wait for about twenty minutes until a nurse puts her head around the door and spots Bella. "Your father's ready to see you now, dear," she says kindly. "Come with me."

I get up as well and follow Bella out the door and down a long corridor, but when we're outside her dad's room I hang back as the last thing he needs to see is a strange guy with his daughter. He's got quite enough on his plate at the moment. Bella goes in and closes the door but I can still hear their conversation quite clearly. I'm only eavesdropping so I'll be prepared for Bella's state of mind when she has to leave him.

"So when are you having the operation, dad?" she asks.

"I'm not sure," he replies in gruff voice. "The doctors are going to run some tests on me tonight and they'll be doing the same on the donated liver just to see whether it's suitable for transplant before they cut me open."

"Do you know anything about the donor," Bella asks.

"No, but I doubt whether they'll tell me anything. It's not something they normally discuss with the recipient. I'm just grateful to the family for allowing it to happen."

"I'm grateful too," she responds and I heard her sniff so she's obviously crying.

"Don't get upset, Bells," her dad says and I hear the sound of him pulling some Kleenex out of a box. "We've got the opportunity to think positively for once. The last few months I've had no hope. Now I've got a chance. If it doesn't work out what have I lost? A few months of pain and suffering, that's all. This is the best way, Bella, even if I don't wake up after the operation."

"Don't say that, dad," she cries and now she's sobbing and I feel helpless.

At this point two doctors appear at the far end of the corridor and are slowly walking towards where I'm standing. I can hear their conversation as easily as if I'm walking next to them but what they are discussing in their hushed tones chills me to my already cold bones.

"Extraordinary piece of luck, Simon. A young man was hit by a car this afternoon and brought in half-dead. He's a giant; well over six and a half feet and weighing nearly three hundred pounds and not an ounce of fat on him. He's all muscle, which is a good thing for us as his physique helped to protect his organs from the impact. We gave him the benefit of the doubt and kept him alive so we could run all the usual tests, but the EEG monitors showed clearly he's brain-dead so there's no point continuing treatment. Now that his father's seen the evidence and agrees there's no hope of recovery, we'll be switching off his life-support tonight. His father has already given permission for his organs to be harvested but we'll only able to use his liver and corneas because of his rare blood type."

"So how did you pick up so quickly he had the same blood as Charlie Swan?" the other much younger doctor asks.

"After the brain death declaration I ran his information through the transplant database, not thinking that anybody on the list would be compatible, and hey presto, Charlie Swan's name came up. Million to one chance, Simon, and he was nearby."

By this time the doctors have reached me and the one called Simon gives me a searching look, obviously wondering why I'm loitering here.

"Daughter's boyfriend," I say and shrug my shoulders.

"Good man!" the other doctor comments as he goes through the door where I just catch sight of Bella in the arms of her father.

As the door closes in front of me again the horrifying truth of everything I'd just learned takes root in my head. For a start, I'd presumed I'd killed Black outright, so this was news to me that he was still alive when the ambulance arrived. This fact pales into significance against the knowledge that Bella's father is more than likely just about to receive Jacob Black's liver, so somewhere in Charlie's background there must be Native American ancestors which is why Black and Charlie are a compatible match. But even the horrifying possibility that Charlie life is about to be saved by the bastard who was trying to kill his daughter is not the most worrying factor I've got to come to terms with and possibly deal with.

When I attacked Jacob on Saturday and ended up covered in his blood, it was obvious he was on the turn. He wasn't a werewolf yet, but the tell-tale stench was there and I smelt it immediately; so did Carlisle. It wasn't even five days since I'd smashed Black to pieces but he'd healed sufficiently in this short period of time to be capable of balancing on the back of a motorbike, run up a hill, admittedly with a limp, and supposedly feel capable of wielding a knife, so there's a strong chance he'd already made the transition.

I don't know much about medicine, but I have to assume there's a possibility that if Bella's father is implanted with Jacob's liver he might become infected with the lycanthrope gene, especially if he already has a compatible blood type. I know then I have to make a call before this goes any further, even if it means Charlie not having the transplant. I walk away from the door, pull out my cell, hit the right number and wait.

He answers almost immediately.

"Son," he says curtly.

"Carlisle, I need your advice, I need your help, and I need it now."

* * *

 **What do you think Carlisle is going to say? It's a bit of a sticky situation as it's probably the only chance Charlie has of surviving. Would Edward want to take it away from him?** **If Charlie does have the transplant and is infected, the doctors and nurses will have to be very careful where they stick any needles, just in case their patient gets mad - just sayin'.**

 **This is another complication in Bella's already overloaded life. It's Wednesday night, so if the operation happens on Thursday morning and the earthquake is due to happen on Monday night, this means Charlie has less than five days to get well enough to be transferred in time, which is cutting it a bit fine, even with a werewolf's liver!**

 **It's now become very personal to her that the Mayor gives the order to evacuate the city or Charlie will be at risk. Time is running out, so if the Mayor refuses to believe her and Jay, then they'll have no option but to go to the TV stations and tell the press tomorrow, which means Edward's life would be in serious jeopardy.**

 **Joan xx**

 **PS: There'll be no more repetition in this story from now on. Promise!**


	22. Chapter 22

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY TWO**

* * *

 **Edward**

I take my time explaining the transplant dilemma to Carlisle who doesn't say a word while I speak. When I've finished there's dead silence at the end of the phone and for a while I think he's hung-up.

"I can't help you, Edward," he says eventually. "I'm not an expert in the transplant field or genetics, and I don't know anyone who could answer your question. I do know there's a risk of cross-contamination from viruses like Hepatitis or HIV, but this is way beyond my field of expertise. If I was a betting man I would say no, the gene wouldn't transfer, but there's always a risk it could happen. But from what you're saying it's his only option. Would you want to take that away from him?"

"No, I suppose not. The only positive thing I could do is warn Bella this could happen. Unless….."

"What are you thinking, Edward? Everything about this situation is dangerous to our kind, you know this. Werewolves will never be our friends and I don't want our family to be the cause of another conflict."

"Yes, I realize that, but what I'm more confused about is, if Jacob's family knew or suspected he was turning, why are they allowing his organs to be used? They must have no idea, which makes me more confident that he hadn't turned since I attacked him."

"You're going to have to hope you're right. Are you with the girl now?"

"Yes, she's with her dad in the room. It's all a bit emotional in there."

"I'm not surprised. What have you told her about you?"

"Nothing that she hadn't already guessed, apart from the fact that I sort of told her how old I was."

(I'm expecting Carlisle to explode, but it doesn't happen which surprises me).

"How did she take it?" he asks calmly.

"She wasn't fazed at all; in fact she's really quite remarkable. She accepts 'weird' without question, but when I think about it she's spent a lot of time in Forks so could've heard tales about werewolves and the undead there. That's my only explanation."

"So what are you going to do about the transplant situation?"

"Nothing I suppose. I can't really run into the room shouting, "Stop what you're doing; Jacob Black's a werewolf!" can I? If you'd had said it would definitely affect Bella's dad, then I would have had to do something to sabotage the liver before the operation."

Carlisle surprisingly chuckles at this as he's probably imagining me wrestling with a surgeon and the liver flopping about and falling on the floor. It isn't a pleasant image.

"Is the hospital in the danger zone?" he asks.

"Yes, it's not in a good place, but hopefully they'll have evacuated by the time the earthquake happens. It's a fairly modern building, but there's still a chance it won't survive anything over an 8.5 which is what most new buildings are built to withstand."

"So what level has Alice predicted?"

"A nine, or thereabouts. Pretty horrific though; there won't be much of Seattle left, and then the tsunami will push all the debris inland which will cause even more damage."

"Not much chance for anybody in the way then."

"Unfortunately not. Now you understand why I did what I did, Carlisle. I couldn't allow this to happen and watch thousands of people die."

"Including the kids in your art club."

"Especially the kids in my art club."

"Ah!" he says in response and I knew then he understood what the trigger was for me to risk my own existence. He was well aware I cared about these children like they were my own.

I can hear movement coming from Charlie's room so I start walking back to where she'd left me.

"I've gotta go, Carlisle. We can talk when I get home."

"When will that be?"

"Probably tomorrow now; I don't know whether Bella's going in to work or not, but I'll be back at some point during the day. I've got to change the tires on my car, so can you ask Emmett to get a new set for me."

"Why do you need to change the tires, Edward?"

"I'll tell you when I get in. I've a feeling the story will amuse you ... well I hope it will."

I end the call and lean against the wall outside Charlie's room which is where Bella left me. The transplant surgeon had arrived and I could hear her telling Charlie that the donor's liver is in good condition and as close a match as they could ever hope for, and they'd be prepping him during the night for the operation tomorrow morning. Bella is told she has to leave as they've a lot of tests to run and to get her father ready so there's no risk of infection. She starts crying again and a nurse goes in to escort her out. When they come through the door she falls into my arms and sobs her heart out into my chest. In the end I pick her up and carry her to the waiting room and rock her like a baby until she calms down.

"Take me home, Edward," she eventually whispers, so I gently place her on her feet and guide her towards the main entrance and keep my arm around her shoulders as we walk towards where I'd left the car and help her in. As I go around to the driver's door I can hear her phone buzzing and wonder who'd be calling her as it's well past midnight by now. As I slip into my seat Bella whispers, "It's Sue, dad's friend. She probably wants to know what's happening."

She hits the answer button and says "Hi," but before she has a chance to say anything else, I hear Sue saying, "Jacob's dead, Bella. I've just had a text from Billy to say they've just turned off his life-support. He wanted me to call you to let you know that Jacob won't be bothering you any more now."

"Thanks for telling me, Sue. I was expecting it because I saw the state Jacob was in. I'm not sorry for Jacob though, but I am sorry for Billy. I'll go speak with him when I come home."

"How's Charlie; is the operation going ahead?"

"At the moment, yes; they're preparing him now. Look, Sue, I promise I'll keep you informed, but do you mind if I hang up now. I'm a bit emotional."

"Of course," Sue replies. "Try to get some sleep tonight, Bella. You're going to need plenty of rest as the next few days are going to be critical."

"You've no idea how true that is, but thanks for your concern."

With that Bella disconnects the call and puts her head on my shoulder as I start the car. "Technically you're a murderer now," she says quietly as though she can't believe what she's saying.

"Better that than grieving over you. I was acting as your proxy self-defense."

"I know, Edward, and I'll be eternally grateful to you."

"I hope so," I reply, as I fervently wish that somehow she'll be with me for eternity, but this is too much to hope for at the moment.

I take my time driving her home, relishing every moment I'm spending with her. As I'm nearing her apartment it occurs to me she'd originally invited me up to find out more about the disaster, but we hadn't actually mentioned it at all. At the moment I couldn't tell whether she would be in a fit state to go into work in the morning, but from what she'd already told me she'd already sowed the seed in the Mayor's head. Now it was up to him to decide whether he was going to act on the information.

"Do you want me to come in?" I ask as I pull up outside her building.

"Yes and no," she answers then sighs. "I need some sleep, Edward. If you came up I wouldn't want to sleep, but I've got to have my wits about me in the next few days. Will you promise to see me tomorrow?"

"Of course," I reply. "Give me your cell phone."

She hands me her phone and I punch my number in. I let it ring once then switch it off; now I had her number and she had mine.

"Call me anytime, Bella. If you need me I'll be there for you."

"Thanks," she says then leans over and kisses my cheek before grabbing her purse and climbing out the car.

Before she closes the door she bends down and looks me straight in the eye. "Whatever you are I don't care, Edward. I may be wearing jogging pants, but I've no intention of running away from you, however dark your story is. I trust you, Edward. I hope you can trust me."

With that she walks away from the car and I watch her as she unlocks the door to her building and goes in without turning and waving. Maybe she doesn't want to see my reaction, which is fortunate as my chin is on my chest because of what she's just said to me. She wants _me_ to trust _her_. This girl is more than remarkable; she's extraordinary, amazing, astonishing; in fact I can't think of a suitable word to describe her.

Before pulling away from the curb, I look in the rear view mirror at the fluttering red and white tape which surrounds the spot where I'd 'murdered' Jacob Black just over six hours ago. When I get home I want to question Alice about why she hadn't warned me of this happening, even though it didn't matter now. She'd seen Jacob going after Bella in Forks, so why hadn't she seen this attack? Maybe Jake had turned into a werewolf after all as Alice told me once that she had difficulty using her ability while they were around. That was worrying.

But what I do know is if I hadn't followed Bella home after work I could've lost her forever, which would've been devastating for me and for the city, but I know I would've had to somehow carry on with my plan for the sake of the kids. One thing I do know now is that if I had been too late to save her, I would never have had the opportunity to experience how strong my feelings for her would become if I'd never held her in my arms. Now I knew what this felt like and just those precious few minutes had made me realize I'd never be content on this earth again unless Bella Swan became a permanent part of my life.

* * *

 **Bella**

 **Thursday 4** **th** **May**

I don't bother to wash my face or brush my teeth when I get in. I just pull my clothes off, fall into bed and I'm asleep in minutes. When the alarm wakes me at seven I'm confused as to where I am because I'd been dreaming about being in my room at home and was expecting to hear forest noises, like birds and wild animals and the creaking pines that surround the house. Instead I can hear traffic on the street and banging doors echoing through the building.

As I swing my legs out of bed it's as though last night was a dream. Easy is now 'Edward', and is some sort of supernatural being. Not only that, he admitted to me he isn't unique; that there are others like him including the one who can predict the future. If these revelations weren't enough shocks for a lifetime, a donor had been found for Charlie, which on a scale of one to ten for shock-value is an eleven; even more so than Edward's confession about being the model for Michelangelo's sculpture of David. I'd suspected Easy/Hoodie Guy/Edward was unworldly in some way, so finding out about his strange past was probably only a seven or eight.

Then the news from Sue that Jacob was dead. I was sorry for his family and friends but I couldn't mourn him. He was out of control and I would've been in danger from him all the time he wasn't either incarcerated in prison or confined to the Reservation. I wasn't shocked or angry that Edward had killed him, even though I still needed to ask him some questions like how he came to be in the right place at the right time yesterday _and_ Saturday. When it came down to it though, it was either me or Jacob yesterday; Edward had chosen me.

Before launching myself off the edge of my bed, I debate whether to go into work or not. I have a bona-fide excuse to stay at home today but I'd only be brooding about what was happening at the hospital and also whether the Mayor had made the right choice to warn the city. I guess Charlie would be going down to theater about now so there was no point me calling the hospital for hours. They had my cell phone number as his next of kin, so if there was any good or bad news I would hear it first. I decide to go in as what's happening in the office is just as important as my complicated life.

I have a shower but I'm not up to eating any Cinnamon Crunch this morning; I just have coffee and a banana. I feel physically exhausted, like I'd just run a marathon, and I'm tempted to get a cab to work but decide the walk would do me good. At least it's a bright, sunny day so maybe some Vitamin D in my pores will help perk me up as well.

I don't know why I hadn't anticipated this but when I walk out the building Edward is there waiting for me. He's leaning against _my_ lamp post looking rather dashing. For once he isn't wearing his usual hoodie and sweat pants. This time he has on a long-sleeved dark blue button down shirt with a smart pair of stone-colored chinos. His face looks different though; his skin isn't as 'marble-y' as it was last night and I wonder what he's done to it to take away the sheen. I still can't get over how good-looking he is but what I do notice is that his pupils are much darker than they were yesterday so I presume he's wearing contacts.

"Good morning," he says as he pushes himself away from the lamp post. "Thought you'd like some company on your way to work; you don't mind, do you?"

"No," I reply with a big smile on my face and I can tell I'm blushing again. "How did you know I'd go in today? I was debating whether to have the day off."

"I didn't know," he replies. "If you hadn't come out in the next ten minutes I would've come up."

"Oh!" I mutter and immediately feel like an idiot for not thinking this through. "Thanks, I'd appreciate the company," I say as I take hold of his proffered hand.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asks.

"Surprisingly, yes; I was shattered. How about you?"

"My kind doesn't need sleep, Bella, but I rest and meditate at night. It's my family's quiet time."

"Your family? Are you married?" I choke.

Edward chuckles and puts his arm around my shoulders and draws me into his side then kisses me on the top of my head.

"No, I'm not married. I live with other people; two couples and a single girl. We consider ourselves a family though and we have our ups and downs like regular folk."

"Have you been together for five hundred years then?"

"No, only the last hundred for two of them; the other three joined us between the nineteen-thirties and the sixties. Most of the time we get on really well."

"I'd like to meet them," I say, "Especially the one who can see the future. What's his name?"

"It's a her and she's called Alice. She's dying to meet you too."

"Really!" I exclaim then add quietly, "That's nice."

I ponder what questions to ask first and settle on how Edward came to be in Forks on Saturday.

"How did you know Jacob would come after me last weekend? Did you follow me all the way to Forks?"

"Not exactly," Edward replies. "It was Alice again; she saw a future news report which said you'd been attacked by a guy called Jacob Black. I didn't get to Forks until early Saturday morning and luckily spotted your car outside the store then I followed you."

"I didn't see your car behind me," I reply. "There was only me and Jacob on the road. Where were you and how did you spring out of the forest so fast I couldn't make out what you were?"

"I can run very fast, Bella," he replies but he wasn't being boastful. "I was keeping up with your car when you left the store, so when Black came up behind you I sort of propelled myself across the road and knocked him into the forest. I wish I'd finished him off there and then."

"Why didn't you?" I ask.

"I didn't set out to kill him; I just wanted him to know I was around looking after you. I presumed he'd back-off."

"You mean he knows, I mean knew about people like you?"

Edward nods his head then stops walking and places his hands on my arms. "The Quileutes are our natural enemies, Bella. Jacob would've been told folklore tales about us when he was growing up. When I attacked him I could see in his eyes that I was his childhood nightmare come to life, but I spared him so he could go back to his elders to tell them we were nearby and watching them. Whether he told them or not I don't know, but I won't be going anywhere near Forks again as I don't want to start a war."

"Jesus!" I exclaim as this is another level of weird. "So is, I mean, _was_ Jacob supernatural? He'd grown about five inches since I saw him last and from what Charlie told me he'd become very aggressive lately."

"He wasn't supernatural last Saturday, but he could've been yesterday. I honestly don't know."

"What was he then?" I ask and then it hit me like an express train. There'd always been stories in Forks about how Native American tribes identified themselves with animals and the legend of the Quileute's was that they became wolves when danger was nearby. Was Jacob turning into a wolf?

My mouth must've dropped open as I stood on the sidewalk. My whole world was turning upside-down, inside-out, topsy-turvy, whatever/however you wanted to describe it. If Jacob was a wolf, what was Edward then? If he was his natural enemy, what would that make him; a mountain lion or a bear?

"I asked you last night what you were, Edward, but the hospital called and interrupted us. I told you I wouldn't run away so will you tell me now?"

"I'll tell you soon, Bella. I promise. It'll take a lot of explaining and I don't want you going into work with this on your mind, on top of your father's operation and convincing the Mayor to evacuate the city. Do you trust me?"

I nod my head as this made sense. I'd keeled over yesterday because I'd over-loaded my brain with weirdness; I didn't want to do that again on a busy sidewalk.

It takes us over half an hour to get to 5th Avenue where I persuade Edward not to go any further. I don't want him anywhere near the building just in case Jay spots him, even though he doesn't look like Hoodie Guy this morning. Before we part Edward pulls me into his arms and turns my face up towards his.

"You've got my number; call me if there's a problem either at work or with your dad. I can be here instantly if you need me."

He bends down and kisses me properly on the lips and I think my heart stops beating for at least five seconds. I'm expecting his mouth to be hard, but it's soft and warm compared to the rest of him and I take full advantage, kissing him back with as much passion as I dare on a crowded street. After we break away he strokes my hair and kisses me lightly on the forehead then turns and walks back the way we came, leaving me standing like I'm frozen to the spot, watching him until he turns the corner and disappears. I think I would've stayed there all morning mesmerized by the memory of his kiss but my name is being yelled behind me which jolts me out of my stupor.

"Bella! Who was that amazing looking guy?" Kirsty shrieks as she jogs towards me. "You're a dark horse; you never told me you had a boyfriend."

"It's a long story," I reply and I know I'm blushing. "I've known him for about a year I suppose. I met him in Florence but I didn't know he was in the city until yesterday. It was a lovely surprise."

"Is he Italian?" Kirsty squeals excitedly.

"Yes, but he's been living here for a while. Look, Kirsty, I'd rather you not mention you've seen him if that's alright. There's a lot going on at work at the moment so I'd rather keep my private life to myself. Okay?"

"Sure," she replies. "A secret Italian lover; how romantic."

"Hmmm," I murmur as I get hold of her arm and drag her towards Isengard.

There's already a cup of coffee waiting for me when I arrive in the office which I'm grateful for after the revelations of the last half hour. I also notice that Jay's desk is immaculately tidy for once. Not only that he's very smartly dressed in a suit and tie and I wonder whether he has a date after work, and then I realize he's anticipating having to carry out his threat to go to the press about what we know, which would mean he would get the sack.

"Have you heard anything?" I ask and start to feel sick again.

"Nope! I'm just waiting for the phone to ring. If we haven't heard from the Mayor by midday I'm getting outta here and going straight to the Seattle Times and then at least one TV station. Are you coming with me?"

I shake my head then explain about Charlie. "Yesterday I would've said yes without hesitation, but my dad's undergoing a liver transplant right now so I can't guarantee what state I'm going to be in later on. He might not survive the operation."

"What the hell are you doing here then?" Jay exclaims loudly.

"To take my mind off it, Jay. I can't just sit in my apartment or a hospital waiting room waiting for news; I'd rather be here doing something constructive."

Jay shrugs his shoulders and carries on emptying his desk. I take a sip of my coffee and look out the window, imagining what the view would look like after the earthquake and the tsunami had smashed the city to pieces.

I'd almost finished my coffee when my desk phone rings which makes me jump. Jay looks over to me and I can see he's on tenterhooks as I pick up the receiver.

"Hello," I say cautiously. It's Jan, the Mayor's PA.

"The Mayor wants you in his office at ten sharp, Miss Swan. You can bring Mr Whitlock with you."

"Right," I reply assertively. "Can you tell me…"

Then the phone goes dead.

"Okay," I muse as I stare at the receiver before replacing it back on the cradle. "We've been summoned, Jay."

"I wonder why she called you and not me," he ponders out loud. "Maybe he's going to sack me anyway, whatever he's decided to do."

"Don't think like that," I reply but I was worried for him. He needed a job more than I did as I had no intention of staying longer in this place than necessary. Even if the earthquake didn't happen and miraculously I still had a job worth doing on Tuesday morning, I'd be off as soon as circumstances allowed.

* * *

At ten o'clock we're in the mayoral suite again waiting to be called in. The Mayor obviously has people in his office already as we can hear muffled voices coming from behind the heavy wooden doors. There's definitely an argument going on as occasionally a voice is raised above the others, and it doesn't sound like the Mayor's. After about a ten minute wait a buzzer sounds and Jan indicates we can go in.

We're greeted by the sight of a very flustered looking Mayor, a middle-aged woman and two men in suits whose faces don't give anything away, plus Jim who is also looking agitated. I can't tell at this point which of them, if any, are on our side. The Mayor waves his hand at the three strangers and speaks first.

"These people are scientists/seismologists, whatever, from PNSN. I called them yesterday and put your claim to them. They're here to question you. Take a seat," he snaps.

"I prefer to stand," Jay snaps back and I nod in agreement. Neither of us want to take the subordinate's sofa that's being offered to us.

"Anyway, unless you're agreeing to take action about what we've put to you, there's no point in us staying here," Jay continues. "We'll be wasting precious time as the city and the whole area drawn on the map has got to be evacuated urgently," he adds forcefully. "I told you I'm going to the press with this."

"Whitlock," the Mayor spits, but before he says any more, the woman speaks up.

"Ms Swan," she says turning to me and smiling. "Could you tell us in your own words why you think we should take notice of this artist's prediction?"

"Of course; it's really quite simple," I reply doing my best to sound assertive, then I draw a deep breath knowing _this is it_.

"The young man who paints these murals has proved to us, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he has the ability to predict the future. I'm not sure how he does it, but I don't really care and, quite frankly, it doesn't matter anymore. What I do care about is this city and the people who live in it and also for the people all along this coast line, and I don't believe we have the luxury of ignoring what he's telling us or the time to procrastinate. If he's wrong and therefore we're wrong, then all we'll be doing is having a trial run for the next earthquake, or when Rainier decides to blow her top again. Apart from massive disruption, what have we got to lose?"

Jay dives in then.

"The earthquake last Saturday, ma'am; did that emanate from the Cascadia fault?"

"Yes it did," she confirms. "We've been closely monitoring the Cascadia Zone for the past eighteen months as the number of minor tremors on the plates have increased substantially, even though the general population would be totally unaware of 99% of them. We know from our submerged equipment that the plates are under huge stress at the moment and even before the Mayor called us yesterday, we were genuinely concerned we were heading towards a catastrophic quake. The tremor at the weekend was the biggest one yet and we hoped this was what all the minor ones had been building up to, but our equipment is telling us otherwise. Because of our own concerns, I'm of the opinion we should evacuate urgently, so your artist's predictions have come at an opportune time. Unfortunately the Mayor is yet to be convinced, even though the evidence is overwhelming."

"What more proof do you need?" I plead, aiming my question at the Mayor. "This is deadly serious. Thousands of people could die; not just in the city but along the coast as far up as Vancouver and down towards Oregon."

The Mayor's eyebrows go skywards as if I'm talking nonsense and I can tell by his attitude that he isn't buying it. I have no option but to go for the jugular then. Stuff the job, this needed to get personal.

"Are you staying in the city on Monday, Sir? And can you look me in the eye and promise me that you haven't already told your wife to pack up and leave Bainbridge Island?"

The Mayor looks furious at the accusation but I'd cornered him and he knew it.

"Well, is she still there?" I ask again pointedly.

"She was going to her mother's this weekend anyway," the Mayor splutters and turns slightly pink.

"You fucking hypocrite," Jay growls. "I could put my yearly pay check on you not being around on Monday either."

The Mayor shoots out of his chair and points his finger at Jay.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that. I have no intention of leaving this city. I'll be here, in this office, at 8 o'clock on Monday evening, waiting for nothing to happen, so you'd better fucking believe it."

He pushes his chair back noisily and walks over to the window and looks out over the city. I'm holding my breath while he decides what to do; I just hope and pray he'll make the right choice.

"Right, I've made my mind up," he says forcefully as he turns away from the view. "And I'm not going to be swayed by anything other than proven facts. For the moment I'm dismissing your psychic predictions but I am prepared to listen to these scientists. I will go on TV tonight to say that PNSN have advised me that they've picked up disturbing information from the Cascadia Subduction Zone that a major earthquake _could_ but only _could_ , be about to hit the city."

I take a deep breath because at least this is a start, even though I know Jay won't be happy with just a warning, but the Mayor hasn't finished yet.

"Ms Swan, you said yesterday that this psychic has predicted the winner of the Kentucky Derby, right?"

"Right," I agree wondering where the hell this is going.

"Who's going to win again?"

"Always Dreaming."

"Alright, if Always Dreaming wins, then I'll order a total evacuation of the area your artist has predicted will be affected, but only because PNSN have warned us of a possible tsunami. That's as far as I'm prepared to go. It'll be up to the residents to take heed of the warning. They'll have two days to get out."

"You mean you're going to delay ordering an evacuation for two days and risk the lives of thousands of people on who wins a fucking horse race?" Jay yells.

"You're asking me to believe a fucking psychic," he retorts angrily. "Tell me, Whitlock, who's the sensible one here; you or me? Whose ass is going to be on the line if this is a false alarm; yours or mine? Have you any fucking idea how much this is going to cost the city if nothing happens, not to mention the trauma and chaos that's going to ensue with folks all trying to leave the city at once. This isn't Florida, Whitlock. We're not set up for evacuations. Neither is Vancouver. It's going to be a fucking nightmare."

Jay is speechless for a moment while the Mayor's tirade sinks in. The Mayor was absolutely right though. He was about to take the word of a psychic, make a declaration to the public as scientific fact that a quake is definitely going to happen in the next few days, knowing that no-one could ever really be that precise. He would also have to sell it to the city authorities and the rest of the state, _and_ Oregon's politicians, _and_ the politicians of another country, but if he was wrong he would take the blame. I firmly believed the disaster was going to happen and the Mayor would be vindicated, but the Mayor had to take it all on trust.

The Mayor turns his attention back to me then.

"Have you spoken with this psychic, Bella? Don't mess with me now."

Thankfully I could answer this question honestly. "I promise you, Sir, I have not spoken to the person who predicted the disaster. I would tell you if I had."

He huffs then walks back to his chair to sit down.

"Get the fuck out of here now; all of you, except _you,"_ he angrily growls pointing to the female scientist. "I'm calling the TV networks to set this up, but from now on you three," (he wags his finger at me, Jim and Jay), had better not say a fucking word to anybody about psychics and murals and artists who can predict the future. There's no way I want to be associated with that sort of mystical shit if this is a false alarm. I can imagine the cartoons and jokes which would follow. My career would be over in an instant and my name would be a laughing stock."

I follow Jay out the room and wait for the elevator without speaking. Jim lags behind talking to the two male scientists and indicates for us not to wait for him. After the elevator doors close and we're alone in the metal box, Jay exhales and loosens his tie while I wipe imaginary sweat off my face.

"That went better than I thought it would," Jay says with a grin. "I still can't believe he's hanging on until after the Kentucky Derby though. That horse better win or we're fucked."

When he says this it suddenly occurs to me that 'Always Dreaming' might not win the Derby at all. Alice may have just predicted the name of the horse I picked out in the sweepstake, which would mean the Mayor wouldn't make the announcement. I have to find out urgently. As the elevator doors open I make the excuse that I have to go to the restroom and shoot off down the corridor. Luckily the room is empty so I hit Edward's number on my cell and wait two rings.

"Hi Bella …. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I need to know something. Who's going to win the Kentucky Derby on Saturday?"

"You must've worked that out from the mural; Always Dreaming."

I let out a sigh of relief which Edward hears.

"What's up?"

"That's what I thought, but how did you know I'd get that horse in the sweepstake at work?"

Edward starts laughing then and I wonder why. "Bella, I'm not a magician and Alice can't foresee that much detail; far from it. That was pure chance. These things do happen for real sometimes."

"I don't believe it," I mutter as for once I've drawn the winning ticket, but I can almost guarantee I won't be able to collect on the prize. Edward continues.

"Anyway, have you heard anything about your dad and have you spoken to the Mayor yet?"

"I haven't called the hospital and yes, I have spoken to the Mayor. He's going on TV tonight to say that the seismologists at PNSN have warned him that a major earthquake could happen. He won't say anything about the tsunami though until after the Kentucky Derby."

"What!"

"I know. He's taking your, I mean Alice's Derby prediction as confirmation you're right. He'll tell everyone to evacuate straight after the race."

"But this would only give people two days and a few hours. That's crazy!"

"I agree, but I'm hoping the majority of folks will heed the first warning and start leaving tomorrow. It's Friday, so people may decide to go at the end of the working week. I'm just worried about dad in the hospital. I doubt whether they'll pack up on the first warning.

"You're probably right. I've been checking the building. Its guaranteed safe up to an 8.5, so it should be able to withstand the quake but it's not in a good place for the tsunami. I don't know what floor the High Dependency Unit is on."

"I'll find that out tonight if dad gets through the operation. I'll go there after work."

"I'll pick you up outside but I might be in a red car this time

"Thanks, Edward. You're a life saver in more ways than one."

He chuckles at this then says something surprising. "You're a life-saver too, Bella. You've given me something to live for."

"What's that?" I ask, being totally dumb.

"You, Bella. _You_ are my reason for living; you _are_ my life now. I'll see you at five-thirty," and then he hangs up.

"Wow!"

* * *

 **So Carlisle seems to be okay about the Bella situation now which is a relief, Charlie is having the operation and the Mayor has seen sense, which is another relief, even though he's waiting on the result of the Kentucky Derby to order everyone to leave. Hopefully the residents will take heed of the first warning and start heading out of the city straight away or it will be chaos on Saturday night.**

 **Whether Charlie can recover enough to be able to be moved is going to be Bella's biggest headache now, and if he is still too sick to be transferred to another hospital, do you think she'll abandon him on Monday night and save herself?**

 **Next time, the Mayor goes on TV and Bella finds out a lot more about Edward's past - yikes!**

 **Joan xx**


	23. Chapter 23

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

* * *

 **Edward**

After Bella hangs up, I digest what she's said to me about the Mayor not mentioning the tsunami until after the Derby on Saturday, which is crazy. Also, thankfully, that he'll only be quoting scientific evidence in his announcement tonight, which is what I'd hoped would happen from day one. As I wander over to the French windows so I can look out over our inlet and to the city in the distance, I feel as though I can relax for the first time in months as there's a good chance now that I'll get away with breaking Aro's arbitrary laws.

When I decided to paint murals depicting the future, saving the children had been my number one priority and I was prepared to risk my life for them. I was happy here, but at the time I had nothing in my life as important as 'my kids', and frankly I couldn't have lived with myself after the disaster if I'd done nothing to save them from the whims of Mother Nature. Now I had Bella in my life and a reason to survive for myself, as well as saving the kids, so staying under the radar to avoid the wrath of Aro had now become a personal goal.

I'd never got on with Aro; the self-appointed head of the Volturi. For the first three centuries of my vampire existence, when I was living mainly in Italy, my mind-reading skills were a secret I kept to myself, as personally I would have felt uncomfortable knowing that someone close to me could tap into my thoughts. But the most compelling reason I'd kept my ability a secret was I didn't want Aro to find out that I had this skill as he would have wanted to recruit me to his 'staff', so I avoided any contact with Aro and his followers whenever possible.

In the early 1700's, Aro purposely sought me out when he and his followers were scouring the continent looking for a group of disloyal vampires who were allegedly plotting against him. Aro also had the ability to read minds, so when we met for the first time in centuries, he insisted on reading mine to prove my innocence or otherwise. Despite my best efforts to block him, he discovered my secret and from that moment on he envied my skill which is superior to his. When he reads minds he has to touch the human or vampire before he can tap into their thoughts which I don't need to do, but he can search your memories which is very dangerous if you're trying to hide something from him. His main problem with me though, apart from the fact that I refused to join the Volturi, is that I'm the only vampire who has the ability to read what's in his cold dead heart, and this I presume makes him feel vulnerable in my presence. It also eats into his fantasy that he's the most gifted vampire on the planet, so in his paranoid mind I am an enemy 'numero uno'.

Over the centuries he'd tried all sorts of ways to discredit me so he could destroy me 'legally' but with no success as I'd always spotted his people coming and could read what their plans were, which of course then failed. I've never had any intention of overthrowing him or using my skill for advantage, but he's incapable of comprehending this as he is power-crazy and believes every vampire thinks like him.

When I was rescued by Carlisle and Esme, who are highly respected in the vampire world, then invited to live with them, Aro naturally presumed Carlisle was in the throes of creating an opposition 'Royal Family', as Carlisle had been open about disagreeing with the way he governed. This was partly the reason why Carlisle suggested leaving Europe, thus quashing the rumor that 'Callisto Cullaro' (which is Carlisle's Italian name), was plotting to take over Volterra. Even though we were living on a different continent, Carlisle was constantly alert to the threat from Italy, as we were well aware that once any of us passed the door to that miserable castle, we would never see the light of day again.

When Alice arrived in our family bringing her awesome skills with her, Aro finally had to accept that our family as a team were invincible. We hadn't had any direct contact with him since she joined us in the 1960's and we wanted it to remain that way, but he still sent spies over occasionally to see what we're up to. This is why Carlisle was adamant, to the point of being paranoid, that we keep our heads down so we don't give Aro any cause to send his army against us, or give him an excuse to order us back to Volterra. So even though Carlisle, Esme and I miss our home country desperately, all of us are relieved there's over five and a half thousand miles separating us now. But I'm determined one day to go back to Italy, even if he still is the King of the Castle.

Until my indiscretion with the murals, there had been no cause in my life, or any of my family's lives, which would give Aro's spies a reason to report us, and from what Bella had just told me over the phone it seemed as though the Mayor would keep quiet about the psychic predictions, which is what I'd been hoping would happen all along. So if the situation remained like this, the gamble I'd taken which could have ended up with me getting my head ripped off then set alight by the Volturi for breaking their ancient rules, had been won, which meant I could tentatively breathe a sigh of relief now.

But Jacob shifting into a werewolf had unsettled me for the first time in years as I'm positive now that vampires are nearby, and if they are Aro's spies, this could mean they are watching us again, which in turn could mean they've seen me with Bella. I know I have to be very careful over the next few days, even though it isn't against Aro's 'laws' to interact with humans. But if I own up to Bella what I am, this could be construed as stepping over another one of Aro's arbitrary lines and would give him the feeble excuse he'd been seeking to destroy me.

After I dropped Bella off from the hospital last night I'd driven straight home, where I'd owned up to Carlisle that I'd deliberately killed Jacob Black. He was angry at first, but when I told him that Jacob had a knife and was intending to kill Bella he was more understanding, even though he abhorred the taking of a life. Like me he seemed very concerned that the Quileute's were shifting into werewolves once more, which is something our cousins in Alaska had warned us about when we first contemplated living in this area. We'd had no cause to visit their Reservation, but something had triggered the process to start it happening again and reading Carlisle's mind, I could tell he was thinking along the same lines as me that Aro had his spies in the area again.

While I was at the hospital with Bella, Emmett had finished loading the truck with everything from the house we wanted to save, so the house was practically empty when I got home. His plan was to set off on Friday afternoon for Alaska taking Esme and Rosalie with him in the truck, leaving me and Alice to spend the day parking our fleet of cars in the tallest multi-storey parking lots in Seattle. If they survived the quake and the flood that would be great; but if not it was no big deal. Carlisle was still planning to take the Riva to Alaska on Saturday morning while Alice and I planned to follow behind in Lugano. However my plans would be dependent on when and how Bella wanted to leave the city, which meant that Alice may have to sail the yacht on her own which she's perfectly capable of doing.

Emmett is still repairing the Volvo when I'm ready to go meet Bella after work so he lends me his bright red Ferrari. It had been a stunningly beautiful day today and the evening was no doubt going to be warm and sultry, so perfect for open-top driving which I hoped Bella would enjoy. Once I was on the road and approaching the city, the traffic seem much quieter than usual so I made it to Bella's building in record time and parked up in my usual spot. The local TV stations had been reporting all day that the Mayor is making an important announcement at 6pm which would also be broadcast on all the city's radio channels, but we'll probably be at the hospital by then. I'll listen to it in the car while Bella is visiting her dad.

I spot Jay and the red-haired girl leaving the building at just after five-thirty but Bella doesn't appear until five minutes later. I watch her carefully as she walks towards me as I'm looking for any tell-tale signs of distress, but she seems okay which must means her dad had got through the operation safely.

"Wow! A Ferrari," she exclaims as I open the door for her and she slides gracefully into the bucket-seat. "How many cars have you got?"

"It's my brother, Emmett's," I explain as I get behind the wheel. "He's fixing the Volvo."

"Your _brother_. Is he a real brother?"

"No, we're not blood-related, but he's the nearest thing to a brother I've ever had. We fight and argue about anything and everything and he's annoying sometimes, but I love him. His wife's a pain in the ass but they adore each other. If she makes him happy then that's fine by me."

"Wife? You mean your kind can get married?"

"Well sort of. They got married in Vegas nearly sixty years ago. Formalities were very lax then so no questions were asked. It was really so Rosalie could wear a wedding dress."

Bella giggles at that and I laugh as well. I remember the day well; totally over the top, but Rosalie had a ball which was the main thing.

"I presume you've called the hospital?" I ask.

"They contacted me when dad came out of surgery. He came round after the operation but now he's in a sort-of induced sleep. The doctor said the operation went as well as anybody could've hoped, but the next forty-eight hours would be critical. They'll know by then whether his body is going to reject the liver or not. That'll bring us to Saturday morning so hopefully he'll be well enough to be transferred to another hospital by Sunday."

"How long do you want to stay with him tonight," I ask.

"Only about half an hour, why?"

"Alice wants to meet you. I said we'd meet up with her on the waterfront. Okay?

"Yes, that would be great," she replies enthusiastically. "That will distract me for a while, as long as I can pick up something to eat on the way. Do you like McDonalds?"

"No, I've already eaten so don't worry about me. I'm sure we'll pass one on the way back so I'll pull in."

"Great!" she says while I tried not to gag at the thought of it. I just hope she doesn't eat it anywhere near me as the smell of burgers makes me retch.

I drop her off at the hospital entrance and she promises she'll be out by six-thirty at the latest, unless it's bad news, in which case she'd call me. It's just coming up to six so I find a radio station and wait for the Mayor's announcement. The news anchor introduces him and I hear the Mayor clearing his throat before he starts speaking and I can tell by his first words that he's definitely anxious.

 _Fellow citizens of Seattle and of Washington State; I'm speaking to you tonight as Mayor of Seattle, but also as a native of this great city._

 _This morning I received some disturbing information which I am passing on to you as a matter of urgency. I've been warned that there is a strong possibility of a major earthquake event happening within the week. Scientists from the Pacific Northwest Seismic Network who constantly monitor the Cascadia Subduction Zone, have made it known to me that there has been increased activity and stress on the fault line in the past few weeks. There was a minor tremor on Saturday evening which we all felt, but this could be a precursor to a much larger quake which could cause severe damage to the city and the surrounding area._

 _The Cascadia Subduction Zone is out at sea, so there is a possibility that a strong earthquake could cause a tsunami which could swamp the city. __This may not happen_ _, so I don't wish to alarm residents at this stage. However I would suggest that boat owners should think about taking their vessels to other ports or marinas; specifically ones further down the Pacific coast, or north to Alaska. The cruise ship terminal will be closed from Sunday onwards as a precaution and the Naval Base will be moving any vessels they have in dock out to sea._

 _I have been in contact with the authorities in Oregon, and in Vancouver, British Columbia, who are also advising their citizens to prepare to evacuate. I have informed our Governor and Members of Congress of the situation, who have approved this message._

 _Of course I'll keep you updated when I receive further news. My office is in constant contact with the seismologists, and if any firm information is forthcoming, please be assured I will pass this on to you immediately._

 _In the meantime I would suggest you keep listening to TV and radio announcements and make preparations to evacuate the area. If you have relatives or friends who live at least a hundred and fifty miles away from the coast who could accommodate you, I would urge you to you lock up your homes and travel over the weekend. I have asked the National Guard to move into the city to protect property from looters._

 _I will remain in the city to co-ordinate the evacuation but I am asking you not to swamp the authorities with requests for assistance. Also please look out for elderly or disabled neighbors who have no transportation. My colleagues will make a further announcement about public transportation as soon as more information becomes available._

 _This is an opportunity to show the United States and the rest of the world how to cope in a crisis. I know for a fact that the citizens of Washington State are the finest people in the world; we don't need to prove this to anyone, but there's no harm showing other folks how it's done._

 _Good luck and God Bless._

As the Mayor finishes speaking, I hear the news anchor say 'Holy Crap' under his breath. I guess he hadn't realised that his microphone had already been switched back on but I suspect he was echoing the reaction of the majority of people who had listened to the broadcast.

I ponder over what my reaction would be if I was a regular human hearing this for the first time. Washington residents were used to tremors, but I doubt whether anyone in the state had experienced anything over a six or seven on the Richter Scale. Earthquakes and tsunamis don't hold any fear for vampires; the only natural disaster our kind fear is fire, which I suppose could break out if gas pipelines were ruptured by the quake. But we can run away from danger faster than an average car and we can lift heavy objects if we're crushed. We don't need air to breathe either, only to talk, so the odds of us surviving any type of disaster are high. I'd experienced earthquakes in Italy where they were common, and I'd occasionally rescued trapped people when no-one was looking, but I had never experienced a nine, or a tsunami. However I had no desire to experience this one and my intention was for Bella and I to be many miles away when the quake strikes on Monday night.

I'm listening to a repeat of the Mayor's speech when Bella opens the car door and climbs in. I wasn't expecting Bella to return so soon as it's only twenty past six.

"All hell's breaking loose in there," she says as I start the car. "The Mayor's speech has got everyone in a frenzy and emergency plans are being dusted off as we speak."

"Good," I reply as we roar away. "How was your dad?"

"Unconscious; wired up to machines that wouldn't look out of place on the Starship Enterprise but apparently doing fine. No sign of rejection yet but its early days. There's nothing I can do for him until he comes round which should be tomorrow morning they say."

I hear her tummy rumble which reminds me that we have to drop in at McDonalds. When we find a drive-through I'm relieved when she buys a fish-burger or whatever it's called and she offers to eat it outside the car as she doesn't want to make a mess and get me into trouble with Emmett. I can cope with the smell of cooked fish; it's their meat products that make me want to vomit.

I park the Ferrari in a secure lot near the waterfront because Emmett insisted I leave it there as he's OCD about it getting stolen. Considering what's going to happen in the next few days I think he's being a bit ridiculous as it might be a pile of junk after the earthquake, but as long as I return it to him in one piece tonight that's his problem. I'm not into supercars, even Italian ones. Emmett is in a big way.

We walk hand in hand towards the sea where I spot Alice sitting on a low wall. She's talking to a guy in a suit which surprises me, but when I get closer I realise who it is.

"That's Jay," Bella exclaims before I have a chance to say anything. "Who's he talking to?"

"My sister," I reply trying not to sound too surprised. "That's Alice."

"How the hell does she know Jay?" she asks and I can tell she's trying to compute how he knows her and for how long.

"Why don't you ask her," I suggest as we approach them.

I see Jay's head whip round when Alice spots us crossing the Alaskan Way and he jumps to his feet when his eyes land on my face. He recognises me straight away even though I'm not in my painting uniform, and then he spots that Bella and I are holding hands.

"What the hell?" he says to Bella who is now giggling.

"Jay, can I introduce you to Edward. Edward is Alice's brother."

"Brother?" he chokes out. "You here to check up on me by any chance?"

"Absolutely not," I grin. "Alice is old enough to look after herself. I'm not her guardian or her keeper."

"Glad to hear it, Edward. So you're the psychic?"

"I'm afraid not. Keep guessing."

Of course I can read what's going on in Jay's head and it's quite comical as he's trying to work it out. When the penny finally drops he's in total denial.

"You!" he exclaims as he turns to Alice. "I don't believe it."

"Sorry, Jasper, but it's true. I can read the future and Edward can read minds, so be careful what you're thinking, especially if your intentions regarding me aren't honorable."

"Jasper? Who the hell is Jasper," Bella blurts out.

I've never seen a man go red so fast. Either it's because his intentions regarding Alice are definitely not honorable and he's already presumed I can see what he's thinking, or he's embarrassed by his name, which is causing huge amusement when Bella realises it's Jay's real one. And then the fact that I can read minds hits home and her mouth drops open.

"You mean you've known what I've been thinking all the time?" she shrieks. "Oh My God!"

"Don't panic," I say and pull her into a hug so she doesn't shrink away from me. "You're the only person on the planet who's a mystery to me. I can't read what's in that amazing brain of yours, so relax."

"Is that true," she says and I can tell she's suspicious as her eyes crease up.

"Oh, it's true," Alice confirms. "It's been driving him crazy ever since he first saw you. He even stood next to you while you were sleeping to see if you dropped your guard when you were out for the count. I told him off for that."

"She knows," I respond smugly. "She woke up when I was there. That's why I sent her the flowers, because I frightened her."

"Ah! It's all coming clear now," Jasper says then he turns to Bella. "You _didn't_ tell me everything then. I'm a bit disappointed to be honest."

"I'm sorry," Bella replies. "If I'd told you Edward had been in my room, you would've called the police; wouldn't you?"

"I suppose so, but can we not talk about all the weirdness now? What I want to know is what's going to happen on Monday and are you guys _absolutely sure?"_

Alice nods her head as she looks around her. "All this will be gone when it's all over, Jasper. The earthquake will collapse the Viaduct and all the older buildings around here, then the wave will push all the debris through the city causing even more damage, even to the newer buildings."

"What about casualties?" Jasper asks. "Do you know how many folks aren't going to be able to escape?"

"No, because there're several different scenarios which are dependent on what action the Mayor takes. I was pleased he mentioned the tsunami in his broadcast tonight because the one that happened in Indonesia and Thailand was awful. People who remember the news footage that came afterwards will take the threat seriously and will hopefully get out quickly."

"He mentioned the tsunami?" Bella cut in. "He said today he wouldn't until after the Kentucky Derby. That woman from PNSN must've really leaned on him. That's good news then. But before we go any further, _Jasper_ , I want to know how you know Alice?"

"I gave her my card when I was looking at the mural at CenturyLink Field before you started work. She was there with another girl admiring it but I'm afraid I only had eyes for Alice. I've been hoping and praying she'd call, and she did when I was leaving the building this evening, so here I am."

"So what's the plan?" Edward says. "I've got art club tomorrow and I'm going to tell the kids not to come on Monday as I'm leaving the city. Alice and I are sailing a boat up to Alaska on Saturday morning so if you want to hitch a lift, Jasper, you're welcome. You too, Bella."

"Thanks, I might take you up on that, Edward," Jasper replies and he sounds quite excited at the prospect. "I'm going in to work tomorrow to do my bit then I'm off. I'm not hanging around any longer than I have to. What about you, Bella?"

"That depends on my dad. If they move him I'll go with him. If they can't move him then I'll have to ride out the earthquake and the tsunami at the hospital. I'm not going to leave him on his own."

When she says this I feel like I've been hit by a sledgehammer. I'd stupidly never considered that Bella wouldn't leave her father if he was forced to remain in the hospital. I'd selfishly just presumed she would want to leave to save herself and be with me. To say I'm dumfounded is an understatement of epic proportions and I don't know what the hell to do. We would have to discuss this but not right now; not in front of Alice and Jasper.

"Are you okay?" Alice enquires which means I must have spaced out for a second.

"Yeah, fine," I reply with a forced smile. "Have you guys got any plans? If not I'll take Bella home; she's had a long day."

"No, we're just going to talk," Jasper replies. "That's if you're ready to tell me how you see the future, Alice."

"Hmmmm, that might need a lot of explaining," she giggles. "I'll see you back at the house, Edward. Have fun." And then she gives me a very suggestive wink which is not lost on Bella who blushes.

"Bye!" Bella responds as we turn and walk back the way we came. I sling my arm over her shoulders and pull her into my side as I have an uncontrollable urge to feel as though I'm protecting her. If she's adamant she wants to stay with her father no matter what, then I'll have to be with her in order to save her if the hospital collapses or it's inundated with flood water. I can't risk losing her now; I'd waited over six hundred years for her and I wasn't going to miss a chance of happiness, even if it was fleeting.

"You're quiet," she says as we approach the Ferrari which is getting admiring glances from some young guys who've just pulled up next to it. I give them the 'don't you fucking dare touch it' stare and they immediately back off and walk towards the exit.

"Sorry," I reply. "You threw me back then, saying you were going to stay with your dad. Of course you must and I'm not going to try and talk you out of it, but please think it through. He wouldn't want you to put yourself at risk for him."

I open the car door for her and help her in then walk slowly around to the driver's door, giving her time to ponder what I'd just said. As I get in she starts to cry."

"Hey, I didn't want to upset you, Bella," I say and attempt to reach over to hug her, but a Ferrari isn't the best car to be affectionate in as the console in the center is getting in the way. I'm able to kiss the top of her head though and hold her hand until she stops crying.

"I'm frightened, Edward," she says through her sniffs. "I can't abandon him but I'm scared about what's going to happen. Is there any way Alice could find out what happens to the hospital? If it survives the quake then maybe dad could be moved to the top floor."

"Bella, there won't be any power after the earthquake, so even if the hospital survives the quake and the tsunami, the machines that he's wired up to will stop working when the hospital's back-up generators eventually fail. If he's still really sick, he's got no other option but to be transferred to an HDU a long way from here and if that doesn't happen, his chances of survival are slim to non-existent. I'm sorry."

Bella starts to cry again so I jump out the car, shoot around the other side and open her door then pull her into my arms. I shuffle around so I can sit in the passenger seat where she sobs into my chest until my shirt is soaking, but I hold her tightly until she calms down.

After a while I feel her shiver which makes me realise my cold body isn't the most comfortable place for Bella to snuggle up against. I make her sit up then I stand up and set her on her feet.

"I'm taking you home, okay?"

She nods her head then slides into her seat. I shoot around to the driver's side again and jump in and we were off. I want to get her indoors before she starts crying again which is inevitable. She's been bottling up her emotions all day so she was bound to dissolve at some point and I'm glad I was around when it all came out.

I'm tempted to leave the Ferrari on the street but instead park it in the lot where I'd hidden the Volvo. On the way out I tip the guy on the barrier fifty dollars to keep an eye on it which he promises to do. It's about a five minute walk to Bella's apartment and the sun is just about to sink into the ocean for the night but it's still bright. We're just about to walk up the hill to Bella's building when she stops dead.

"What's that on your face and neck?" she says and she's staring at me strangely.

I put my hand up and touch my skin but there's nothing obvious there.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Your skin's sparkling? What on earth have you rubbed on it?"

I realise then that Bella's tears have dissolved the lotion on one side of my face and down my neck so she could now see the true me. This was going to take some explaining.

"I'll tell you when we get indoors," I reply and take hold of her hand and pull her up the hill. I notice then that my free hand is sparkling as well where I'd wiped her tears away. I just hope we don't meet anyone she knows before we get in. Fortunately we don't.

Once we're inside the apartment Bella excuses herself and disappears into the bathroom to freshen up. I have a quick look around and I'm sad she has to live in this cramped, gloomy space with tired bits of furniture and threadbare carpets. It's also cold and damp in here so I put the electric fire on and search around for the heating thermostat and find it hidden behind a cupboard which is a stupid place to put it. I turn it up to maximum and put my hand on the old-fashioned iron radiator and feel it instantly warming up. I think about the small house in Forks and guess she's never lived anywhere luxurious before, unless her step-father in Florida had provided comfortable accommodation, but she hadn't stayed there long enough to enjoy it if he had.

She emerges from the bathroom still looking red-eyed where she'd been crying so I beckon for her to come over and sit with me on the sofa which she does. I don't say anything; I just wait for her to speak as I guess she has a hundred and one questions for me. I'm still debating whether to tell her the whole truth but I'd wait and see how the interrogation goes before deciding whether I'm going to admit to being a vampire.

"Why does your skin sparkle, Edward?" she whispers as though it's a secret.

"It only sparkles in direct sunlight, Bella. I have different pigment to a normal human. You've got freckles on your nose; I sparkle."

"Hmmmm," she says and then stays quiet for a while.

"Why is your body so cold and hard? You bend and twist like a human but it's almost like you're made out of stone."

"It's just the way we are. We do have soft areas, like our facial features and other parts of the body."

"Really?" she replies and I hear the tiniest hint of humor in that word.

"Yes, really. Now are you going to go the full Red Riding Hood and say 'What enormous teeth you have, Grandma?"

"I'm not interested in your teeth, Edward. I'm only interested in the soft parts of your body."

With that she pulls away from me, twists in her seat and straddles me so she's facing me then she kisses me on my lips.

"Your mouth is very soft, Edward," she says then kisses it again. "Is it soft inside?" she asks seductively then kisses it this time with her mouth slightly open. I can't help myself but kiss her back passionately. My tongue springs into action and delves deep into the warmth of her mouth. Her tongue fights with mine as the kiss gets deeper and more frantic then she pulls me down on top of her and wraps her legs around my hips so tightly I can feel her heat.

It's all happening so fast and I'm falling under her spell. My dick is throbbing like hell so I fumble with the zip on my pants as she fumbles with hers, all the time not breaking the kiss. But as I'm reaching inside my pants a moment of clarity washes over me and I realise what I'm doing. I spring away from her so fast I end up on the opposite side of the room and noisily crash against the wall.

With my back against it I slide down to the floor and put my head in my hands while I try to bring myself under control. I want her so badly but I can't risk it, not while she's still human. I know Emmett slept with many human women before he met Rosalie, but he never had an emotional connection with any of them so if he'd lost control, it would've just have been bad luck for the woman in his eyes. If I killed Bella, I couldn't have carried on living afterwards because of the guilt and the loss.

I look up and see Bella sitting on the sofa looking wide-eyed and sad. I have to tell her it isn't her fault and that I love her and care for her, which is why I can't touch her in that way. I jump to my feet and wander over to sit next to her.

"I'm sorry," I say as I take hold of her hands.

"I know what you're going to say, 'It's not you but me'," she says and she's on the point of crying again.

"In some ways you're right, Bella, but it's not because I don't love you; I really do. It's because I'm frightened I might lose control and hurt you. I can't risk it.

"Why would you lose control? Does your kind have sex in a different way to humans?"

"No, it's generally the same but we're very passionate."

"I presume then that you haven't been celibate for the last 500 years or so?"

"No, I haven't."

"So when was the last time you had sex?"

"Errr, 1928."

"Jesus, Edward, that's, that's … 89 years ago. Was it with someone like you or someone like me?"

"Someone like me."

"Have you ever been with someone like me before; someone normally human?"

"No."

"Why not; don't you find human girls attractive?"

"Until you came along, no. That's not to say that I'm not attracted to beautiful women, but there's never been anyone who I've considered starting a relationship with because it wouldn't work out."

"Why not?"

"Because, among other things, I'm technically immortal, so I've always avoided falling in love with someone who would only be part of my life for a short time. The pain when I lose a friend is awful; to lose a partner would be agony I believe, but you're different, Bella."

"How? I'm not particularly beautiful or…"

"You glow, Bella," I cut in. "There's a radiance which comes from inside you that I can feel like a source of heat. Your scent drives me crazy. I want to consume you. I can't bear not being with you. That's why if we were to make love I don't think I could control myself and I could end up….."

"End up doing what?"

"I could end up killing you, Bella."

She goes silent for a moment then she turns to me and looks me in the eyes.

"What are you, Edward? If you don't tell me now then you'll have to leave. I love you, and if I never saw you again that would break my heart, but I'd rather it be broken now than let this drag on between us. I want you to be honest with me, even if you think it's something I don't want to hear."

I fix my eyes on hers even though I'm scared of what her reaction is going to be as I'm expecting it to be rejection. I take hold of her hands and they're shaking; well I presume it's her hands which are shaking, not mine.

"Bella," I start and then draw a deep breath. This was it, the moment of truth for me. I'd only ever disclosed this to two other humans before. One was my surviving brother and the other was Michelangelo when he asked me why I wouldn't eat with him.

"Bella," I repeat. "I was born a human at the end of the fourteenth century, in the summer months of 1384. When I was twenty-two I was travelling south with my family on the way to Rome when we were ambushed by a gang. I was dragged off to a castle unconscious and half-dead and when I woke I knew something strange had happened to my body. I was told by the gang that all my family were dead, but they didn't know I still had a brother who hadn't travelled with us. One of the women who attacked us had taken a liking to me so she hadn't killed me; instead she kept me as her prisoner and her lover until she grew tired of me and let me go.

"It didn't take me long to work out what I'd become because rumors of these people were rife in that part of the world and still are, even though the rest of the world is oblivious to their presence. The gang that attacked me were vampires, Bella. In 1406 she changed me into a vampire and I can't ever go back to being human again."

I feel Bella's body stiffen when I say the word vampire and then fear spreads over her face. I let go of her hands as I don't want her to feel as though I'm trapping her but she doesn't move or jump away. She just stares into my face as though she doesn't know me.

"Bella, I don't feed from humans," I add quickly. "I'm not saying I didn't used to, but I haven't attacked a human for over a hundred years. You're not in any danger from me as long as I stay in control. That's why…"

"That's why you don't want to make love to me, is it?"

"I do want to, but I'm scared I'll hurt you."

"So what's the worst that could happen?"

"I could start drinking your blood or change you."

"You could change me into a vampire?"

"Yes, and I don't want to do that."

"Ever?"

"Never."

"Why not?"

"Because you wouldn't want to be like me."

"Shouldn't that be my decision?" she responds without hesitation.

I stare at her to see whether I can tell from her facial expression whether she's being serious or not. This is the first time since I got over my initial frustration of not being able to tap into her mind that I want to know what she's thinking. She's obviously shocked I'm a vampire, but she's already considering being with me long-term. She says she loves me and I love her and I guess she's determined that the small matter of me being a vampire isn't going to tear us apart and I love her even more for this.

"Yes, it should be your decision," I agree.

"So if I told you I was prepared to take the risk of you losing control and either killing or changing me, would you make love to me, Edward."

I draw another unnecessary deep breath and reply, "Yes, Bella."

"Then take me to bed, Edward. I could only have four more days on this planet if Mother Nature has her way, so I want to make those days count. I want you, Edward, more than I've ever wanted anything or anyone else before. If you really do love me, then show me."

I didn't need to think twice about this so I lifted her from the sofa and carried her over to her unmade bed, and as night fell over Seattle I showed her just how much I loved her. And she in turn showed me.

* * *

 **Errrr - sorry about leaving it there (ducks for cover to avoid the missiles), but I actually thought you'd like to hear what happens from Bella's POV. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.**

 **Plenty of hanky panky in the next chapter (not too much smut though), so chuck the kids/husband/wife/lover/boss out of the house/office (I know some of you read this at work), get a glass or mug of something and enjoy.**

 **Joan xx**


	24. Chapter 24

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

* * *

 **Bella**

I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't shocked when Edward told me he was a vampire. I know what the Hollywood version of vampires are obviously, and for a fleeting moment I was concerned I could possibly be in danger, but I was watching his facial expressions when he told me and I honestly think he was more frightened of me and what I might say or do than I was frightened of him.

Now, looking back to when I first began to suspect he was something a bit more than an extraordinary human, I cannot recall what I guessed he might admit to being. Possibly an alien from another planet? Or a mediaeval scientist who'd discovered the secret to eternal life? Maybe even the keeper of the Holy Grail? Whatever. I now know he'd been born human in 1384 and had been changed when he was twenty-two years old, so he'd been frozen in a young man's body for over six hundred years which was mind-blowingly incredible.

As I'm lying in bed staring up at my cracked and peeling ceiling, I'm still coming to terms with the concept of the word 'vampire'. When he said the word, I immediately thought of Dracula or Nosferatu, and they were portrayed as disgustingly evil creatures who sucked blood from their human victims. But Edward is nothing like that; neither is Alice. Apart from their sparkling skin, their unusual eye colour and their rock-hard bodies, they could easily pass as human to anybody who isn't in the know, and this is what I can't get my head around the most. Edward had mentioned there were six, (I presume), vampires in his family, but how many more were there in Seattle, or in the USA, or in the world? Were there hundreds, or thousands, or millions? I'd always referred to one of my sports teachers in my Florida middle school as a blood-sucking demon; now I'm thinking that perhaps she really was.

I've got a million and one questions to ask Edward about his life, but now isn't the time. I'm still wallowing in the bliss of what happened last night and I'm also relieved that I survived the experience, even though it was touch and go for one genuinely scary moment. After it happened it hit me in a flash of clarity that I'd been totally irresponsible seducing him when I did. He'd warned me he might lose control, but at the time I genuinely wasn't thinking of the consequences if the worst had happened because frankly I didn't care; I just wanted him so much. I now accept I'd been totally reckless, because if something had happened to me, how would Charlie have coped if his daughter had suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth? I'd definitely fallen under Edward's spell, but there was still no excuse for me taking the risk and I shuddered thinking of the pain I could've caused Charlie by my selfish behavior.

When Edward carried me to bed and began slowly undressing me, I guessed I was in for the night of my life. I told him I was on the pill and that I wasn't a virgin; but he wasn't bothered that he wasn't my first. He said what was more important was to make _our_ first time memorable and so special that we'd forget about our past lovers, his and mine. Then he kissed me and told me he loved me more than life itself, and then he looked me in the eyes and said something in Italian which sounded wonderful, but I had no idea what he was saying. I'm determined to find out though because I've memorised his words. I'll look them up on Babel Fish as soon as I get into work.

Foreplay was forgotten. We both needed a connection and I suppose Edward wanted to prove to me that he could control himself when we were being intimate. When he was undressing himself, then touching my body and building himself up _mentally_ to enter me, (physically he was already there, believe me), I admit I was nervous as I didn't know what to expect. His body was hard and cold and I presumed this went for every part of him, but he was the same in that way as any man. As he settled inside me he whimpered in relief but he didn't start moving straight away as it was obvious by his facial expressions that he was concentrating on restraining his instincts.

I whispered that I loved and trusted him then buried my hands in his hair and tugged his head towards me so I could kiss him. His eyes were tightly closed and there was pain in his face as he tried to control himself, and for a few seconds I felt genuinely apprehensive, but eventually he relaxed, opened his eyes and started to move. And when I say move, he really really _moved_.

He wrapped my legs around his hips then placed his forearms either side of my head and thrust into me several times so hard I gasped. I could feel him growing even bigger inside me and the sensation was incredible, so much so that I was worried for a moment we weren't physically compatible. I was expecting him to be heavy, but when he was lying on top of me I didn't feel as though I was being crushed at all. I couldn't get over how flexible he was either, because when I touched his skin, it was like stroking highly-polished marble, but every part of him moved, bent and flexed just like a normal human man. His long hair was thick and incredibly soft so I kept my fingers buried in it to keep it from flopping over his face so I could watch his expressions, but most of the time his eyes were fixed on mine and I could tell he was concentrating hard on controlling himself.

He raised his body off me and propped himself up on one elbow so he could put his other hand between my legs then started rubbing me on my magic spot, at the same time as thrusting into me harder and harder. "Tell me if it's too much," he growled as he thrust into me again and again and then he increased his pace and was pumping faster than I'd ever experienced before.

I couldn't help shrieking "Holy Hell!" as my legs had started to shake uncontrollably as he buried himself deep inside me. "Too much!" I had to beg as I felt as though I was going to spontaneously combust, so he eased off the pace but it still felt awesome. I was too overcome by the fireworks going off in my head to do anything for him; I just lay there like a landed jellyfish while he totally controlled me. He carried on rubbing and thrusting until I had an incredible orgasm, and as I was returning to earth and whimpering and shuddering underneath him, he thrust his tongue into my mouth and increased his speed and power again, keeping my orgasm going until I felt him explode inside me.

I expected him to collapse on top of me which is what most guys do after they've come, but he didn't; in fact he was totally silent and still. I opened my eyes to see his face and he was staring intently at me, but it wasn't the Edward I loved who was looking down at me, it was Edward the Vampire, and I was absolutely terrified.

There was desire in his eyes but it wasn't because he loved me; it was desire for what I could give him and at that moment I realised I was his prey. His mouth was set in a strange way and I could hear a low noise emanating from his gut, like a barely audible growl. I knew without question I was in serious danger of being consumed and I had to snap him out of it or I'd be dead.

"You were wonderful, Edward," I breathed and held his gaze but he didn't respond at all. His pupils were slowly dilating and contracting which reminded me of a snake, but they were the only part of his body which was moving; the rest of him was as still as … stone. Now more than ever he looked and felt like a marble statue, but one that had fallen off its pedestal and had landed on top of me; pinning me to the bed. This Edward was inert; lifeless; dead; but his flickering eyes signalled to me that he was very much alive and highly dangerous.

I lifted my hands up and buried my fingers in his hair but he still didn't react. The good Edward was fighting a battle with the Vampire and I knew I would know very soon who had won. There was no point me trying to escape and I figured if I tried getting away from him I could possibly trigger a hunting instinct in him, so I kept absolutely still as the minutes ticked by. If the Vampire was going to win this fight, I hoped my end would be quick.

His cold body was starting to feel heavy and he was still resting inside me so after a few more minutes I chanced it and gave up being motionless. I wriggled underneath him, hoping the sensation on his dick would snap him out of this stupor. I felt his body twitch so I ran my fingers over his pecs then up around his neck.

"Kiss me, Edward," I whispered and pulled myself up against him. I heard and felt a sigh coming from his lips and I knew then that the decision had been made.

"Oh Bella," he whimpered as he crashed down on top of me, knocking the air from my chest. He rolled onto his back taking me with him so I was lying on top of him, then he crushed me against his marble body, holding me so tight I could hardly breathe. But at least I could mentally relax because _my_ Edward had won the battle and I was safe, until the next time.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually but in a voice filled with emotion as he stroked my hair. "It was all too much in the end and I nearly lost control. Are you alright; did I hurt you or frighten you?"

"You frightened me a little bit, Edward," I mumbled into his chest, "but you're hurting me now. Could you ease off crushing me, please?"

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," he replied as he relaxed his arms so I could breathe properly again then he gently slid me up his body so we were face to face. He stroked a few tears away from my cheeks and I could tell he was looking for clues from my expressions as to what I was thinking.

"Don't apologise for your instincts," I murmured as I gently touched his face with my fingertips. "I knew what I was risking and I'm not going to say I wasn't scared, but the Edward I love prevailed. You know what to expect now, and you've proved to yourself and to me that you can keep me safe."

He didn't say anything but rested his lips on my forehead as I ghosted my fingers over his impressive chest, which I recognised as identical to the marble torso of David in Florence. As my fingers travelled lower I could see he was becoming aroused again and I considered not going further south, but I carried on until my fingers were wrapped around his manhood and it was soft and surprisingly warm. I was debating what to do next when Edward lifted me up with one hand as easily as if I was made of feathers and with his other hand manoeuvred himself so that when he lowered me he was inside me again.

"If it gets too much, you must say," he said as he filled me even deeper than before.

I nodded my head as my power of speech had suddenly failed me. This was a totally different sensation and I had to wriggle on top of him to get comfortable. As I did this movement, Edward's eyes rolled back in his head and he cried out with pleasure. I'd obviously done something very very right, so I wriggled on him again and again.

"Stop it or I'll come too fast," he begged, so I did it again and kept doing it until he raised himself from his prone position and wrapped his arms around me, holding me absolutely still while he thrust into me from below. As he loved me again he crashed his mouth onto mine and pushed his tongue through my open lips. His fingers on one hand disappeared into my hair and he held my head in an iron grip while his other hand slid down my back to my buttocks and he took control over my movements as he French-kissed my mouth at the same time. When he came and was pouring himself into me he flung me on my back on the bed and reared up over me like a grizzly bear. I opened my mouth to scream as I genuinely thought, 'this is it', but his eyes creased into a smile and all I saw this time was pleasure wash over his beautiful face.

"I fucking love you, Bella Swan," he growled playfully, "But don't ever tease me again or I'll have to take you across my knee."

"Promise?" I replied equally playfully.

"Hmmm," he responded with a curious smile then he sprang off the bed, effortlessly lifted me up and carried me into the bathroom where he turned on the shower and kissed me again while he waited for the water to heat up. Still holding me so my feet were about a foot off the ground, we managed to squeeze into the tiny cubicle where he proceeded to wash me all over then shampoo my hair. I did the same for him but there was no room for any hanky panky; just enough for some more French-kissing under the rapidly cooling cascade. We dried ourselves off and went back to bed where I must've fallen asleep very quickly. I woke up once in the night and he was lying next to me, watching me, but I dropped off again almost immediately.

Its morning now and I know I'll have to get up soon, but I'm not complaining because I've now got memories I'll take with me to my grave. I'm lying in his arms and I can feel his chin resting on my head. I'm just waiting for my alarm to go off now so I can get ready for what will probably be my last day working for Seattle's Public Utility Department. I doubt whether anyone will turn up for work on Monday, and by Tuesday there won't be much of a city left to vandalise.

There are so many questions I want to ask Edward about his life, like what he eats now that he's given up 'humans'. Also I'd like to know about his family, when he left Italy and came to America and why. Also he mentioned he was friends with Michelangelo; who else did he know and which artists had he worked with? But these questions can all wait though as my dad's recovery and relocation is my main concern now and I have to hope he'll be well enough to be evacuated before Monday, otherwise I don't know what I'm going to do.

I wonder then about Jay and whether he's hoping to have a relationship with Alice in the future. There was definitely some chemistry going on there so I hope he makes it to the office today so I can find out more. It would be weird if he ended up with Alice and I stayed with Edward. I don't know what that would make us as Alice and Edward aren't blood-related, so we wouldn't actually be true sisters or brothers-in-law. But I'm running ahead of myself.

As I'm thinking about all the strange things which have happened in the last forty-eight hours, the alarm goes off which makes us both jump but I don't want to get up just yet. I won't need to shower which will save me some time plus Edward can take me to work in the Ferrari which would be good fun, especially if Kirsty sees me. I snuggle up to Edward who is even colder than my room but I don't care. Next to him is the only place I want to be and I still can't believe that last night Edward said he's in love with me. And then I realise my room isn't cold; it's warm, even though the curtains are closed, and I'm curious why I'm not freezing to death, especially as Edward doesn't generate any sort of heat.

"Morning gorgeous," he says in a husky and very sexy voice.

"Morning equally gorgeous," I reply but my voice comes out as a squeak which is a bit embarrassing.

He pulls me up the bed so we're eye-level and kisses me on my mouth and starts playing with my hair. I'm actually feeling hot now as the temperature in the room is really high, and it's definitely not because I'm lying next to the hottest and most gorgeous man, (sorry), vampire, who's ever walked on the face of the earth.

"Why is the room so warm, Edward?" I ask as I can see the electric heater I bought in Forks and it isn't switched on.

"I turned the thermostat up when I got in last night. I'll turn it down if you like?"

 _"What thermostat?"_ I shriek.

"The one that was behind the cupboard," he replies and points to the opposite wall where he's shoved my really crappy shelving unit about a foot along the wall from where it used to be. I feel like sobbing as I'd suffered for more than a week and a half being frozen, believing my apartment didn't have an independent heating system and my lousy landlord had already turned the heating off for the summer, like the ass who owned my apartment in New York did as soon as it was April.

"Do you want me to make you coffee," he chuckles as I bury my head in the pillow so he can't hear me yelling every curse I can think of. "Stay there; I'll bring it to you in bed."

I raise my head up as I can't believe what he's just said. I've got a sexy boyfriend, who's an amazing lover, _and_ a handyman, _and_ who'll bring me coffee in bed. He slides out of bed and wanders into the kitchen totally naked and I can hear him laughing at me. I realise then that having a toasty-warm apartment plus a naked _barista_ is too good to be true so I'm _definitely_ still asleep, but I'll enjoy every second of this fantasy as it's a welcome change from the nightmares I've been having for the last few months.

When I can smell the coffee and admit to myself that I'm _not_ dreaming, and while Edward is being a superstar boyfriend, I dash into my warm bathroom to relieve myself then check in the mirror to see what I look like after our night of passion and the impromptu shampoo and shower. The image that greets me is horrific. My hair looks as though I've been dragged across a forest floor by my feet, in other words I resemble a prehistoric cave dweller, but I'm stuck in the bathroom with no clothes and no hairbrush.

I have to use my fingers as a comb and try valiantly to bring my hair under some sort of control as I'll frighten him away otherwise. When it looks slightly less wild, I creep out of the bathroom just as Edward comes out the kitchen holding my tartan mug, so we're both standing there, stark naked, with only the bed in between us. Edward immediately shuts his eyes tightly.

"Bella, if you don't get back under the covers in the next five seconds, you'll be very, very late to work, if you get there at all that is."

"Yes Edward," I giggle and leap onto the bed and cover myself right up to my chin.

He sets my coffee on the nightstand and lies next to me but on top of the covers, which fortunately gives me an excellent view of his twitching dick. I look up at him innocently and bat my eyelashes coquettishly while my lady bits are doing the Highland Fling.

"Stop it, Bella," he says then kisses me on the forehead. "That's all you're getting this morning. I want you fresh as a daisy when you go into work as I need to know what the city is planning to do. I'll pick you up at five-thirty and we'll go straight to the hospital and then the art club. Okay?"

"Yes, Edward," I say trying to keep a straight face as his dick has definitely got a will of its own and is totally ignoring what's coming out of its owner's mouth. I try valiantly but I just can't stop myself.

I launch myself on him, dragging down the quilt that's separating us in the process then I pull him on top of me, which is surprisingly easy considering he's made of stone (I think). "This daisy needs watering first, Edward," I say cheekily as I come up for air. I wrap my one free leg around his hip and he isn't going anywhere until both he and I are satisfied so I wriggle myself over him until he relents.

"You asked for it," he hisses as he gets hold of my feet and jerks them up in the air so I'm flat on my back then he pounds into me. As his pace increases he pushes my legs down so my knees are near my ears and I'm almost bent double.

"Too much!" I screech as he grips my ankles and goes even harder.

"Too bad!" he groans as he twists his body so he's going in at an angle which makes me shriek even louder.

As the headboard is banging against the wall, I'm thinking of my neighbors and the people below me who, thank God, I've never met. I'm sure Jessica will be able to hear me from across the hall and will probably be pounding on my door any minute thinking I'm being murdered. I close my mouth and concentrate on not crying out but it's almost impossible and I wonder how long Edward is going to make this last.

He lets go of my ankles and drops down on top of me so we're eye to eye and I watch his face distort with pleasure as he reaches his climax. His eyes roll back in his head then he stares at me while he gently pulls in an out to extend his orgasm. When his body relaxes and he lays on top of me, I wrap my legs and arms around him and we stay like that, silently clinging to one another for at least ten minutes until he recovers.

"Your coffee's getting cold," he groans as he pulls himself up on his forearms and looks down on me.

"No worries," I sigh as I look at the clock. "I'll have one at work."

"I'll make you another while you shower. What do you eat?"

"A banana will do; I'm really not hungry," I lie as I crawl out of bed and nearly fall over because my legs aren't responding to any signals from my brain. I wasn't planning to have a shower but hot water on my aching limbs is what I really need right now.

* * *

I'm almost ready for work and Edward is in the bathroom when I hear someone knocking on the door. I look through the spyhole and see the top of Jessica's head bobbing up and down so I suspect she's heard me and Edward getting it on and is checking I'm still alive. I debate for a fleeting second whether to answer but open the door expecting the worst.

"Bella!" she shrieks excitedly. "I've just heard on the news about the earthquake. What the fuck are you going to do? Are you staying here? I think it would be fun to just ride it out. I'm sure we'll be safe in this building; it's as solid as a rock."

"Absolutely not, Jess," I reply forcefully. "Get the hell out of Seattle and go to your parent's place in Portland. Don't even think about staying."

"What do you know then?" she asks suspiciously. "You must have access to more information than the general public. Is there something we haven't been told?"

"I know roughly the same as you because the Mayor was quite forthcoming with information last night," I reply, trying to sound as knowledgeable as possible without giving too much away. "The seismologists told the Mayor that this could be the Big One which will flatten the city, so if the quake doesn't kill you the tidal wave definitely will. Don't even think about staying here and risking it."

"So how can they be so accurate?" she muses and I can tell she isn't buying it. "I've never heard of cities being warned about a major earthquake before; they just come out of the blue. I get they know when a volcano is going to blow, but not an earthquake."

"Because this fault is being monitored with entirely new, highly sensitive, state of the art equipment, Jessica. These scientists are way-ahead of any other Institute in the world and they're willing to put their reputation on the line for this. Listen to the scientists, please. Give them the benefit of the doubt this time and take them seriously." (I'm practically begging as I'm saying this). "Get out today before the rush; you won't regret it."

"Are you leaving this weekend?" she asks.

"My dad's just had a major operation in the University Hospital so I'm just waiting to hear when and where he's going to be moved to. I'm not staying in the city after Sunday though."

"Okay, I'll think about it," she replies and turns on her heel and I can tell she's still undecided.

"What's Mike going to do?" I shout after her.

"How do you know about Mike?" she shrieks then spins on her heel. I can see her blushing from here.

"Walk of Shame, Jess. I saw him."

"Well, he's going home to his folks in Forks this weekend. He's asked me to go with him but I haven't made up my mind yet. It's a bit early in the relationship to be meeting mom and dad. I don't want him to get ideas but I am tempted. I'd rather go there than Portland to be honest."

"Well go then; his parents are great and at least Forks has a high elevation, but you'll still be at risk from the quake and the trees, so be careful."

Jessica waves her hand at me almost dismissively and goes back to her apartment. As I close the door I have to accept that I've done as much as I'm able to do without telling her about Alice and Edward's predictions. It's up to her now whether she takes my advice.

Edward emerges from the bathroom when the door clicks shut. "Is it safe to come out now," he says, grinning.

"Yeah, you can come out," I sigh. "I'm going to get a lot of this at work today, aren't I, even though none of them know I know more about it than they do, apart from Jim of course?"

"Probably, but you can only do your best to persuade people to leave. Nobody can force anybody. It's their choice and at least they _have_ a choice this time. As Jessica said, it's unheard of for a city to get a bona-fide warning of an impending disaster so there will be a lot of scepticism."

"I know," I say and I wonder what my reaction is going to be if Kirsty says her family are going to ride it out.

I pick up my workbag and declare myself ready which is when I notice that Edward has a clean shirt on and his face is glistening with some sort of moisturising lotion on it.

"Errr…. Where did you get that shirt from?"

"Emmett, my brother. He came over while you were asleep. He didn't like the idea of the Ferrari staying overnight in an unsecure parking lot so he came to collect it. He brought some clothes over and this special stuff I put on my skin to stop it sparkling."

"Are we walking to work then?" I ask as time is getting on.

"No; he brought the Volvo and parked it where we left the Ferrari. I'll get you to work on time; don't panic."

We walk out the building into a beautiful spring morning. It's the first week in May and the sky is blue and cloudless, the air is fresh and a gentle breeze is rustling the trees that line the sidewalks. Pink and white blossoms are just starting to appear amongst the new green leaves but I know they'll never fully bloom this season because in just under three and a half days from now, Mother Nature will be releasing her wrath on these streets in the most violent of ways, second only to a volcanic eruption, and these trees won't be able to withstand the force of the wave which will crash through the city. As I wander down the hill and feel the warmth on my face, it's like Mother Nature is taunting the city by saying, "Enjoy it while you can, as the Seattle you know and love will soon be a distant memory."

We walk hand in hand in the direction of the parking lot but it's obvious from how busy the roads are that the city is starting to empty already. Every street is jammed with overloaded cars and trucks heading either for the freeway or the ferries, and tempers are definitely getting frayed. There's no point even attempting to get to the office by car so we walk the rest of the way, trying to ignore the mayhem that's going on all around us.

Edward leaves me outside Isengard and gives me a lingering kiss before allowing me to go in.

"Love you," he says as he kisses me again.

My equilibrium is already shot to pieces after the first kiss; he has that sort of effect on me even before he says those two words.

"Love you too," I reply then I stumble through the automatic doors and immediately feel the loss of him. How the hell I'm going to get any work done today, nobody knows, however I'm anxious to get up to the office to find out how Jay, I mean Jasper, (I'm never going to let him live this down), got on with Alice last night. If he'd had a similar experience to me overnight then _nothing_ was going to get done today, even though anything we do get done will be totally pointless.

For once there isn't a queue by the elevator but I'm late so I don't think anything of it, but this is the first time I've ever had an elevator to myself in this building and I zoom up to my floor without stopping which is also a first. When I step out into Reception, Kirsty isn't there to greet me so I presume she must be in the kitchen, so I stroll down to the office expecting to find Jay has beaten me in. Hopefully he'll have already made me some coffee.

He's not there even though it's gone half past nine so I chuck my bag on my desk and wander along to the kitchen but there's no milk. I make two black coffees hoping Jay won't complain, and as I walk back towards the office I notice all the offices are strangely quiet and none of the phones are ringing. Kirsty still isn't at her desk which surprises me but when I check for any sign that she's arrived, there's no evidence she's come in this morning as her desk and chair is as she left it last night.

I put the coffees on our respective desks then walk through the floor again. It's just approaching nine forty-five by now, but most of the offices are still empty and the computer screens are blank. I keep walking until I get to Jim's office where the door is open a crack. I can hear him talking on the phone so I hang back until I hear the distinctive click signalling the end of the call.

I knock on the door and stick my head around it without waiting for a response. Jim is staring out the window towards Puget Sound and I know without asking what he's thinking.

"Where is everybody?" I ask.

"They've either phoned in pretending to be sick or taken a day's emergency leave," he replies. "I'm considering sending anybody that's bothered to turn up home. Nothing's going to get done today and to be honest, what's the point being here? If the city's going to be flattened by an earthquake, why bother sweeping the streets or collecting the garbage?"

I realise then that because I knew the exact time when the quake is due to happen, I hadn't considered not coming in today because I knew I wasn't in any danger. The rest of my colleagues hadn't got the benefit of my knowledge so I guess most of them had already high-tailed it out of town or were on the point of leaving. I wondered then whether the same was happening in hospitals, schools, shops and offices across Seattle and the wider area of Washington. If so, then Edward's plan had worked and already many lives were being saved, but it also meant that the city would soon stop functioning if the workers who ran it had abandoned their responsibilities. Selfishly I hoped that the hospital was still fully staffed, but then I thought about the doctors and nurses getting caught up in the disaster, and I honestly didn't want that to happen.

I wander back to the office but Jay still hasn't arrived so I take the opportunity to call the hospital. The nurse says that Charlie is being woken up now and for me to call back in an hour. I also try Kirsty's number and get her voicemail. I leave a message saying that I presume her and her family had got out of town already and hope to see her again once this is all over. As I click the phone off Jay appears at the door, spots the coffee and sort of smiles, but before sitting down he closes the door behind him which is unusual. I guess he wants to talk in confidence and also he has no idea there's already been a mass exodus of staff and there'd be no-one listening to what he has to say anyway.

"Sorry, no milk," I say as he sits down.

"No matter," he replies as he takes a sip and pulls a face then takes another sip. Normally he would turn his screen on immediately, but he doesn't touch the computer this time but stares into space for a while.

There's something wrong, I know it. This isn't the laid-back Jay I've come to know over the past two weeks. He isn't even the miserable Jay that Kirsty warned me about. This is a new species of Jay who's staring at the ceiling and I can tell he's winding himself up to say something. I wait for a few minutes but just as I'm about to break the silence he speaks.

"How long have you known?" he says out of the blue but in a flat, accusatory voice.

He doesn't look at me when he speaks and I can tell without question that Jasper Whitlock, for some reason, is seriously pissed with me.

* * *

 **So Jasper is angry about something. He said on the waterfront that he would talk to Bella later about Edward being in her apartment, so maybe he's found out from Alice about all the other things Bella has hidden from him, like the messages on the windows etc. He's definitely not a happy bunny at the moment.**

 **I hope you enjoyed Bella and Edward's night (and morning) of passion? She didn't hang about did she? Poor Edward didn't stand a chance! However she was being totally irresponsible as it would've broken Charlie's heart if something had happened to her. But when you have a sexy vampire in your apartment and a nice big double bed, who the hell is going to think logically?**

 **I know I keep saying it, but thanks for all the reviews this story is getting; I really am enjoying reading them and chuckling over the guesses as to where this is leading. Also I would like to say a HUGE THANK YOU/MERCI, to Isno and Zveka, who have just uploaded the first chapter of this story translated into French. I am seriously impressed and very flattered.**

 **Next time, you find out what's wound-up Jasper. Charlie wakes after his operation (hooray) and Bella contemplates what she would have to give up if she becomes a vampire (while she's stuffing her face with Filet-O-Fish) and Alice may or may not have messed up, big time.** **It's the calm before the storm which we all know is coming. Don't forget, there are only 28 chapters in this story, so a lot is going to happen really fast.**

 **Joan xx**


	25. Chapter 25

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

* * *

 **Bella**

"Known what?" I reply defensively, even though Jay has asked a genuine question but I don't know which piece of mind-blowing information he was referring to and his attitude puts my back up straight away. Is he talking about the quake? The tsunami? Edward and Alice?

"That Hoodie Guy was Easy ... Edward ... Dracula ... whatever his name is. That the quake and tsunami were happening on Monday. That Edward and Alice were vampires?"

 _I_ was pissed now as he obviously didn't trust me which was total crap so I went for him.

"I found out about the disaster the same time as you, Jay, which was when we saw the mural on Johnson Hall. I met the _real_ Edward on Wednesday night for the first time in my apartment. When I got home from work I put a note in my window and _ordered_ him to come up. We didn't have time to discuss who or what he was, _or_ the disaster, _or_ how he knew when it was going to happen, because about five minutes after he walked through my door I got a call from my dad about the liver transplant. _Anyway_ , before you get even more pissed with me, when did Alice tell you that she was a vampire?"

"Yesterday evening."

"Exactly when?"

"Just after you left us."

"So you knew before me then, _Jasper_. Edward didn't tell me he was a vampire until at least an hour later."

"So you hadn't suspected before then?"

"That he was a vampire ... Are you nuts? What do you think for Christ's sake? I guessed there was something unusual about him, but at the time, believe it or not, being a vampire was way down on my list of options. Remember, _you_ were the first one who suggested Hoodie Guy might have 'extraordinary' abilities. (I do the air quotes thing). _You_ were the one who first mentioned the words X-Men, Professor Xavier et cetera. As you said yourself, _normal_ people can't predict the future, but I wasn't expecting this as an explanation. Were you?"

Jay goes quiet then as he's obviously thinking about what I've said.

"Why didn't you tell me that Edward had been in your apartment when you were sleeping," he practically spits. _"And_ that he'd left messages for you on your window _and,_ most importantly, that you'd actually spoken to Edward on Wednesday night?"

"Because there was nothing new to tell you," I yell and I hope he's picking up that _I'm_ getting really pissed now. "He was just warning me off looking for him. Plus, I was pretty wound-up about my dad all day. _Sorry_!" I spit the last word.

I wait for about thirty seconds for him to respond but he just sits there sipping his coffee and brooding. In the end I'm not prepared to put up with this shit and his sulks any longer. In my opinion he's behaving like a two-year-old.

"Jay, Jasper, if you don't snap out of it I'm walking out this office and not coming back. For heaven's sake, we're in a situation right now you couldn't make up. The earth beneath our feet is just about to explode. A flood of epic proportions is about to swamp the city. We'll both be out of a job on Tuesday morning because who gives a flying-fuck about graffiti on a pile of fucking rubble. My dad's at death's door, and if he isn't well enough to move I might be dead along with him in three and a half days' time, and to top it all, my boyfriend and your girlfriend are vampires. Now you're sitting there moping because I didn't tell you that I'd briefly spoken to Hoodie Guy. What the hell's the matter with you?"

Jasper bangs his coffee mug on the table splashing it everywhere which makes me jump then looks straight at me rather than just staring into space.

"Because I thought we were a team, Bella. When I spotted you and him walking hand in hand towards Alice and me, have you _any idea_ what was going through my head at the time? I presumed you'd known who he was for a while and you'd kept that fact from me and I felt totally stupid and let down. I had to find out from Alice that he'd been in your apartment. She told me you'd had messages from him that I didn't know about. How do you think that made me feel in front of her? Most of all though, when you went to the art club on Monday, how the hell did you not realise that Easy was Hoodie Guy?"

"Because he had golden eyes at the club, Jasper," I yell back. "Hoodie Guy's eyes were as black as coal when I saw him at the Aquarium, so _that_ was what I was looking for. I told you I suspected Easy could be our man but I couldn't say for certain."

Jasper grunts, then chugs down the rest of his coffee while he stews over my response. I'm still tempted to pick up my purse and head to the hospital leaving him to sulk and I'm just about to stand up when Jasper apologises.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I was totally out of order. I've been lying awake all night wondering what the hell's going on, but especially because I really thought you'd purposely kept me in the dark and that really upset me. You're the one person I thought I could rely on, but when Alice told me about Edward being in your room and the messages going between you, I felt unbelievably let down and really dense in front of her. I sort of understand why you kept quiet now, but how would you have felt if I'd known who Hoodie Guy was and kept it to myself? Remember when you hit the roof when we were at the Aquarium because you thought I'd kept quiet about Edward's other murals? Can you recall how pissed you were then?"

When Jay reminds me of my hissy-fit I realise I've been a complete jerk and Jay had every right to have a go at me. I'm just about to apologise but he hadn't finished yet.

"Two weeks ago I was an ordinary, slightly sad, single, thirty-something nobody, Bella, with a deadbeat job and nothing to look forward to. Then you walk through the door and my whole world turns upside down. I don't know which way is up at the moment, the ground seems like it's moving underneath me and I feel permanently nauseous."

"Yeah, I know how you feel," I respond. "Apology accepted and I apologise to you for not being totally upfront either, and for yelling at you. I should've told you everything and I'm really sorry I put you on the spot with Alice. I only kept things from you because I thought you might go to the police over my head. Anyway it wasn't me who turned yours and my world upside down; it was Alice and Edward."

"True, but you spotted there were messages in the murals. I would never have seen past the fact that some frustrated artist was plastering Seattle with better-than-average graffiti. If you hadn't been so inquisitive, we wouldn't have known we were going to be hit with the equivalent of a hydrogen bomb but without the radiation."

"That's my training," I sigh. "I was taught to always question why an artist chooses a subject to paint, unless it's a commission or a religious image. Also, Alice told Edward that I was coming to Seattle and we would have a connection, which was why he targeted me and then stalked me, not you."

"Yeah, Alice said that last night."

"What else did she tell you?"

"Not much that we didn't already know."

"No, I mean about her."

"Well, she told me she's about a hundred and twenty years old. She was born in New York then moved to Alaska after she became a vampire. She was changed by a nomad who grabbed her when she was out walking her dog then left for dead. She's never fed from a human because a vampire called Garrett was watching this nomad who was causing problems in the city, and he whisked her away from civilization before she had a chance to follow her natural instincts. She moved in with Edward's family in the 1960's and has been there ever since. Oh, and she's seen my future and I'll be a vampire one day and we'll live happily ever after as husband and wife. To be honest I think she's making that bit up and it's wishful thinking on her part. Other than this, nothing else that's really mind-blowing."

"What!" I shriek.

"Yep! She really does want me to go to Alaska with her in the family's yacht and she's offered to change me after we get there."

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious that she's asked me, but I haven't said yes about the vampire bit yet. I'm pretty made-up about going to Alaska with her, but you knew this."

"But Jay …"

"But what, Bella? Tell me please what's keeping me here? I've no family to speak of. I hate my job. I hate this city apart from the music. My prospects are shit as I'll definitely not be employed in four days' time, and … "

"And what?"

"I really like Alice. I don't know if I'm in love with her yet because I don't really know her, but she reckons we'll be blissfully happy together. If it doesn't work out, what have I lost?"

"Only your humanity, Jasper."

"Humanity? What's that, Bella? Kindness, empathy, intelligence, compassion, cruelty, stupidity? I can think of a hundred and one nouns that are part of what I understand comes under the heading of _humanity_. Are you saying Edward doesn't have any of these traits; that he's not human in every way except for his diet, his physical differences and advantages?"

"No, but …?"

"Has Edward offered to change you?"

"No … unless it was by accident."

"He will, I assure you. He's not going to let you go. Alice says that you're his singer."

"His what?"

"Singer. The one person who is totally meant for the other. He won't be able to exist without you. He's totally besotted with you. He won't rest until he's convinced you to become a vampire, so you'd better start getting used to the idea."

"Jesus!"

I thought back to when Edward and I were talking before we went to bed and he warned me that if he lost control I would either end up dead or a vampire. I still hadn't got my head around this, and one day he might really give me the choice, or maybe he'll just do it to me and claim it was an accident. The implications that came with this prospect were mind-blowing and I knew if he gave me the option now I wouldn't be able to give him a measured reply as there was too much going on in my life at the moment. But if Charlie didn't recover from the operation, what was stopping me other than fear of the unknown? I needed to question Jay more.

"How did you leave it with Alice? What I mean is did you spend the night with her? Sorry, that was intrusive of me," I add hastily.

"We did spend most of the night together, but we stayed fully clothed if that's what you're implying; not that that's any of your business. She told me about her life and family. I asked her questions. She told me what to expect in Alaska and that I'd be safe, even though I'd be surrounded by vampires. I'm not going to pretend I'm not nervous, but it's the most exciting thing that's happened to me, ever."

I nod my head in agreement and I'm tempted to ask Jay more about what he'd learned about Edward's family but my head was in a spin. Would being with Edward mean I'd have to make the change, or could I live as a human with him? If I survived the next few days I would need to ask him this.

As I'm pondering my options my cell phone buzzes and I recognise the number as the hospital. I snatch it up and nervously and say, "Hello".

"Your father is conscious now, Miss Swan. If you'd like to see him you can come anytime. He's still very sleepy so I can't guarantee he'll be awake when you arrive."

"Thank you," I reply excitedly. "I'll ask if I can leave work and come now. While I'm on the phone, can you tell me what your plans are for moving the patients because of the impending earthquake?"

"We have no immediate plans at the moment, Miss Swan," she replies. "We're awaiting instructions from the directors. If the hospital is to be evacuated and your father is well enough to be moved, we will of course inform you where he's being transferred to."

"Thanks," I reply and say goodbye. I'll have to find out who's in charge of that decision when I get to the hospital, even though I'm in no position to start kicking butts yet.

Jasper (I still can't get used to his name) raises his eyebrows as a question.

"Dad's come round," I say. "I'd better tell Jim I'm going there."

"Do you want me to come with you; there's nothing to do here?"

"That would be great," I reply as this would give me the opportunity to ask more questions about what Alice had told him.

I shoot down the corridor and tell Jim what's going on. He waves me away saying he hopes my dad will be okay and not to bother coming back today or on Monday. I'm a few paces along the corridor on my way back to the office when I realise I can't leave without saying something more about what's going to happen. I know I'm taking a risk, but for some reason I trust Jim to keep what I'm going to say to him confidential. He hadn't blurted to the staff about what was on the wall so this gave me added confidence.

"Jim, listen to me," I say as I walk back into his office. "Don't ask me how I know, but this really is going to happen when the psychic said it is and I want to tell you something else that Jay and I haven't disclosed to anyone else. The psychic isn't the guy who's doing the paintings. He's just the conduit the psychic uses to warn the city."

Jim's eyes widen when I say this but I carry on.

"The psychic told me that on Monday evening there'll be a massive quake out at sea. Most of the old buildings in the city will collapse plus quite a few of the newer ones which on paper shouldn't collapse. Roads and railways will disintegrate, including the Alaskan Viaduct and the freeway overpasses. About half an hour later the wave will arrive on the coast and will travel rapidly across the Olympic Peninsula as far down as Oregon and up to Alaska. The hills on the north side of Seattle will divert the force of the water so that when the wave hits here, it will be travelling much faster and be much taller than what spreads over the lower-lying land. It will tear down the Sound until it swamps Seattle and everything around it for miles. What buildings that are left standing after the quake will be further damaged by millions of tons of debris which will be pushed inland, so you must promise me you'll get out in time."

Jim's jaw slowly drops as I'm speaking and then he swallows a couple of times before replying.

"You know this for certain?"

"Yes, but as I said, please don't ask me how I know as I've been sworn to secrecy. If I don't see you again, thank you for supporting me and Jay. I don't think we could've convinced the Mayor without you. Because of your help we've already saved countless lives; just make sure yours is one of them."

Jim gets up from behind his desk, comes over to me and gives me a hug.

"Yours too, Bella, and I hope we can meet up after this is all over and we're able to talk about it. I'm leaving Seattle tomorrow to join my wife and kids in Denver, so I'm not expecting anyone else to turn up to work on Monday if I'm not here. The Mayor says he's going to stay put, but he might be here all on his lonesome."

I chuckle at the image; the Mayor sitting on top of his tower, like Saruman at the pinnacle of Isengard watching his empire collapsing around him. I just hope this building survives the onslaught as I honestly don't wish the Mayor any harm.

Jasper is waiting for me by the elevator carrying a large cardboard box with all his personal possessions in.

"Just in case the building doesn't survive," he says and I can't help shuddering imagining this vast monolith crashing to the ground. I go back to the office and my desk and collect the few personal bits and pieces I'd accumulated in the last two weeks, including a bag of semi-stale cookies from Kirsty, then I follow Jasper into the elevator. As the doors close I take one last look around the deserted floor then sigh as I've already accepted there's little chance I'll ever be back here again, because even if the building survives, Seattle will have bigger problems on its hands than preserving graffiti.

Jay insists on driving and I'm happy to give him the keys. As soon as we start moving towards the parking lot exit I call Edward to tell him what's going on. He's at home helping put the last few family possessions into the truck that his brother is driving to Alaska, then he and Alice are going to shuttle cars onto the open-air top floor of a multi-storey parking lot, hoping that even if the lot collapses, the cars on top will survive. He offers to meet me at the hospital but I tell him to stay put and promise to call him later.

As we emerge from the parking lot, we have to push our way out onto the road as it's packed with folks leaving the city. Most of the cars are heading for the freeway, but some are heading downhill towards the ferry port to escape that way. The traffic cops and the regular police are doing an amazing job keeping the traffic moving but it still takes us well over an hour to do a twenty minute journey to reach the hospital.

A wave of emotion hits me when I walk through the hospital's automatic doors and make my way up to the High Dependency Unit. This is a moment I never thought would happen, and now I have real hope that my dad would remain part of my life for many years to come. A wave of gratitude to the family who'd allowed their loved-one's organs to be donated washes over me and I wish I had the opportunity to thank them, but sadly I presume this will never happen.

Jay is told to wait in a nearby room as I follow a nurse down to the four-bed unit. Before going in I have to scrub my hands clean then cover my clothes with a blue protective gown and matching covers for my shoes. I'm sure I look like a Smurf when I enter the pristine ward, which is silent apart from the repetitive beeps and pulses of the various machines which are keeping the patients alive, and my eyes jump to the bed in the corner where Charlie was lying unconscious last night.

He's propped up like he's lying on a sunbed, surrounded by drips and machines rather than newspapers and a beer. I wasn't expecting him to be awake, but as I approach the bed his hand moves a few inches off the cover as he attempts a wave, and as I get nearer his face cracks into the most amazing smile, considering he has an oxygen mask covering his mouth.

"Dad! I cry out and rush over to him; nearly tripping over because my feet are sliding on the shiny floor.

"Bella," he replies in a voice much stronger than I imagined he would have considering he's been out of it for over twenty-four hours. As he pulls his mask off he says, "Why aren't you at work?"

"Dad!" I admonish him. "You're far more important than any job; anyway my boss said I could come. I still can't believe this. How are you feeling?"

"Like an elephant's sitting on my abdomen, but apart from that, okay. I could really drink a Vitamin R if you could sneak one in later."

I laugh at what I presume is a joke, but knowing dad there's a chance he's totally serious.

"I don't think that's advisable. I guess it'll be a while before you eat anything. What have the doctors said to you?"

"Only that there's no sign of rejection yet, so that's good news."

Dad coughs then and his face distorts in pain. I panic and look around frantically for a nurse but they're all busy.

"Water," he whispers and points to a bottle with a straw sticking out the top. I hold it for him as he takes a sip then he rests his head on the pillow and sighs.

"Don't say another word," I insist. "You've just had a major operation so don't pretend you're alright just for me. Okay?"

He nods his head and closes his eyes. "Sorry," he whispers then moves his hand towards mine and I know he wants me to hold it. I lace my fingers through his and note how warm his hands are, and then I realise I'm comparing his hand to Edward's, whose glacial fingers had been the last ones I'd touched.

I watch him as he drifts off to sleep. It had been an effort for him to talk to me and I debate whether me being here is putting an unnecessary strain on him. I look around the ward and everyone not in a bed is fully occupied, except a female doctor who's standing near the door writing something in a file. I get up and walk over to her and introduce myself as Charlie Swan's daughter.

"Ah yes, Miss Swan," she says. "Your father is doing as well as could be expected at this stage. We should know more about whether the transplant was a success tomorrow or Sunday at the latest. Do you live nearby?"

"I'm not far away," I reply. "Thank you for everything you're doing for him, but I'm anxious to know what your plans are to evacuate the patients if the Mayor tells everyone to leave the city?"

"We don't have any plans at the moment, Miss Swan. I'm sure the hospital will be fine. It's been built to withstand an 8.5 quake and we have back-up generators, so your father will be safer where he is."

"But what about the tsunami?" I sort of quietly shriek.

"I doubt this will happen, Miss Swan. Anyway your father is too sick to move at the moment, even if there is a tsunami. If I were you I'd be more worried about what is going to happen in the next few days in this unit, not something that might not happen at all in the city. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be right now."

She walks out the room leaving me wanting to scream with frustration. I want to chase after her and shake some sense into her, but I'd probably break my neck running down the corridor with these stupid things attached to my feet.

I wander back to dad but he's fast asleep by now so it's pointless me hanging around. I gently put his oxygen mask back over his face then tell a nurse I'm going and leave the unit. I dispose of my coveralls and go to find Jay. He's still in the waiting room reading a car magazine that looks a bit ancient.

"Hey," he says as he looks up. "How is he?"

"Asleep now but okay. Can we go?"

"Sure thing but I'm hungry; do you want McDonalds?"

"Is the Pope Catholic? Course I do – let's go."

We leave the car in the hospital parking lot because the local roads are gridlocked and walk to the nearest McDonalds which is only a couple of minutes away. We order practically everything on the menu because if the end of the world is coming, or one or both of us are going to be turned into vampires in the next few days, a few more fat globules floating around our arteries isn't going to make that much difference to our long-term health prospects.

After polishing off a filet-o-fish, large fries and an apple pie, I'm on my second strawberry milk shake while Jasper starts working his way through his second Big Mac, fries and Coke. "Might as well enjoy it while I can," he says with his mouth full.

"What do you mean," I ask as I'm sure there're plenty of McDonalds in Alaska.

"Vampires don't eat burgers; in fact they don't eat anything at all. Alice told me that."

"Anything?"

"Nothing other than blood. She lives on animal blood, either hunted or farmed. Pretty disgusting really but she says when or if I make the change, this'll be the only thing I'll want."

"Oh God!" I exclaim and suddenly I feel nauseous. I'm not a true vegetarian in that I'll eat fish, dairy, stuff like that, but not meat. The thought of living off only animal blood is a nightmare. Living without cheese might be a total game changer for me too.

"Sorry, have I put you off becoming a vampire?" he chuckles as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

"You could say so," I reply as I look around me to where the restrooms are just in case I want to vomit.

"Have you thought about it?" he asks.

I shake my head as I genuinely haven't. It's not something I'm ready to contemplate until all this is behind me. What happens in the next few days will probably shape my immediate future. I'll make my mind up when and if Charlie survives the operation and of course if Edward wants me to.

"What do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?" I ask him.

"Alice has offered to collect anything I want to save from my apartment and load it onto the yacht she's sailing to Alaska. I'm not going to take much; just some clothes and my vinyl records, and some books, and my pet lizard, and…"

"So practically everything?"

Jasper laughs and then asks me what I'm going to save.

"Not much, just some clothes. Luckily I haven't brought much with me from Forks. If there's time I'll give Edward a bag of stuff to put on the boat. When is Alice planning to sail."

"Not sure; probably tomorrow afternoon sometime. She says she needs to be north of Vancouver Island before the earthquake happens otherwise the boat might get lifted towards shore again. Has Edward decided what to do yet?"

"I don't know. I'm sure he'll tell me tonight. I presume he'll go with you and Alice," I reply philosophically.

"Not a chance," Jasper replies confidently. "He'll stay with you. He won't abandon you, Bella. Don't forget his life won't be in danger."

"Do you think so?" I muse, hoping he's right.

"Absolutely."

As I finish my milkshake, I contemplate mine and Edward's future. He says he loves me and I'm sure at the moment he does, but I can't guarantee he'll love me next week or next month even though Alice thinks I'm his singer, whatever this is. So the idea I'd allow him to turn me into a vampire is crazy until I'm absolutely sure that our mutual love is the forever type of love. Also there's no rush; he's able to control himself when he's with me so why bother for the moment?

We wander back to the car and I take the keys this time. As I drive Jasper to his apartment which isn't far from mine, I look at the cars and trucks that are all around us and they are either full of people and their pets, or packed with luggage. Most of the vehicles have overloaded roof racks or are towing trailers, but both of us notice there are no delivery trucks or workmen in pick-ups. Seattle is slowly grinding to a halt and being emptied of its workers and its citizens, which fills me with relief and also a sense of foreboding.

I drop Jasper off as near to his apartment as I can get and promise to keep in touch by text then carry on to my own apartment and abandon Freddie on the open-air top floor of the nearest multi-story parking lot as I doubt whether I'll need to drive him again. I actually feel quite sad leaving him there as I've become attached to him over the past two weeks so I hope he survives the onslaught; I doubt it though.

After walking up the hill in the warm sunshine and then the stairs to my apartment, I'm feeling more than slightly sick as the calorie overdose is starting to take effect. Before going in, I knock on Jessica's door but there's no answer. I check under my mat and her key has gone which makes me think she's taken my advice and has already left the city. When I open my door, on the inside mat is a folded piece of paper with my name scribbled on the outside and I guess it's from her.

 _Bella!_

 _Mike and I are going to Forks for a while to ride this out. He didn't have any lectures today so we're getting out before the weekend rush. Hope you stay safe._

 _Jess x_

I sigh with relief but make a mental note to call Mike on Sunday to suggest to him that he doesn't come back to the city on Monday, and to tell him that his family should sit in the middle of the sports field from about 7pm onwards on Monday night. I don't want him indoors or anywhere near trees when the quake strikes the town.

I call Edward to let him know I'm home. He tells me to stay at the apartment and he'll pick me up then take me to the hospital on the way to the art club. I'm pleased I have this to look forward to as an evening with any of the kids that turn up will distract me for a couple of hours.

I tidy up then put all my clothes and other things I want to save into bags and stack them by the door so Edward can take them with him to put on Alice's boat. I call the hospital and hear that dad is doing fine then I decide to call Sue. After I've given her a brief recap of what happened at the hospital this morning, she starts crying which sets me off, so we both have a cry together, but at least this time they are happy tears. After we've calmed down I ask her how Billy and the rest of Jake's family are doing.

"They're okay," she says sadly. "I spoke to Billy yesterday and he's admitted to me that Jacob was living on the edge and he was expecting something awful to happen to him. He said that when Jacob was in hospital recovering from the bike crash or whatever it was, he was like a man possessed; almost as though he was having a psychotic episode. Billy asked the doctors to organise a psychiatric assessment for him, but Jacob walked out the hospital before it could be arranged. The only thing that's keeping Billy going at the moment is that he allowed Jacob's organs to be used for transplants, but I know he had the rare blood group that's common in the Quileutes so they probably weren't used. By the way, have they caught the driver who ran over him yet?"

"I don't know," I stutter as something horrible had just occurred to me. "Nobody got the car's number," I add and I suddenly feel sick again. Either it's the McDonalds catching up on me or it's the thought that Jacob's liver had just saved my dad's life.

"Are you alright, Bella?" Sue says.

"Errr…. I think so," I answer. "Sue, there's someone at the door. Can I call you back tomorrow; I need to talk to you about the earthquake, okay?" I finish hurriedly.

I end the call without saying goodbye and lean back on the sofa as my face has started to burn up. If what Sue is saying is true and Jake had been like a man possessed in hospital, maybe he'd discharged himself because he knew something strange was happening to his body and not just because he wanted to attack me. If he was turning into a wolf, he could've been supernatural when Edward ran over him, which would mean that dad now had a 'supernatural' liver sitting inside his body. I definitely need to talk this over with Edward, immediately. I call him back and he answers straight away.

"Edward," I say shakily. "Do you think there's any chance that my dad has received Jacob's liver?"

He goes quiet at the other end of the phone which I wasn't expecting.

"Bella, I overheard the doctors saying they'd got the liver from a young guy who'd been run over. They also said he was a giant, so I suspect it was Jacob's."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I wail. "That's horrific."

"I knew you'd be upset which is why I didn't mention it. I hoped you wouldn't ever find out. But Bella, it was your dad's only chance of survival. Would you have denied him it?"

"No, of course not, it's just that … it makes me feel sick to know that the man who wanted to kill me is now part of my father, and worse still, that you killed him. Even though I know it's not the case, it almost feels like collusion; like we could be accused of murdering Jake to save my dad."

"Do you want me to come over now?" he offers.

"Please," I respond and start crying. Edward disconnects and I can imagine him racing to his car, breaking every traffic law in the book and pushing all the other cars out of the way between wherever he lives and here, which makes me think, where does he live? In a bat cave? Underground? In a house with no windows so the sun can't touch him?'

I curl up on the sofa and hug my knees. I don't often cry, but I'd cried more in the past few days than in the past few years, apart from when I found out about dad's illness when I'd cried for a week. I feel like an emotional wreck, even though it's understandable why I'm like this. I had already begun to accept that whatever happened in the next few days, (if I survived of course), my life would never be the same again.

As I'm sitting on my own waiting for Edward to arrive and contemplating my future, if I have one, I hear a noise like an express train coming along the street, getting louder and louder. I jump to my feet and rush to the window as the building starts to shake and the glass rattles in its frames. I hear a crash coming from the kitchen as crockery smashes on the floor, then I hear screams coming from inside the building. I run into the kitchen where I have a better view of the street and watch in horror as shingles from the roof of the building opposite come crashing down and explode on the sidewalk below.

As one of the panes in my window shatters and shards of glass slide into the sink, I'm coming to the terrifying conclusion that Alice has got the date and time of the earthquake totally wrong and worse, I'm all on my own.

* * *

 **Oh jeepers! Do you think Alice has messed up, or do you think this is another tremor before the Big One? You'll find out soon.**

 **So Bella has worked out that Charlie has been 'saved' by Jacob. Pretty gross when you think of it. At least Charlie's alive and seems to be recovering well. She's also calmed the situation that had blown up between her and Jasper. He had every right to be miffed with her (English expression), so apologies were needed both ways.**

 **As it mentions in the Wikipedia article I printed at the end of chapter 13, in an emergency it is expected that a high proportion of workers would think of family first before their employment. I'm sure the vast majority of folks who work for the emergency services wouldn't abandon their posts, but if your job wasn't vital to the well-being of the community I'm sure you wouldn't think twice about getting out when you could.**

 **Next time ... actually I can't say anything because that would be giving away what's just happened. Sorry! (Not sorry).**

 **Joan xx**


	26. Chapter 26

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

* * *

"Bella, are you okay?"

I can hear Edward shouting my name as he races up the stairs.

"I'm fine," I call back as I fling open the door and fall into his arms. He scoops me up effortlessly then carries me over to the sofa where he kisses my forehead and holds me against his chest, more for his benefit than mine I guess as I really am okay.

The actual tremor had only lasted about four or five seconds, but it was the most violent one I'd ever felt in this part of the world. I was sure Edward wasn't far away, but I was still terrified because I was on my own. Now that Edward is here I feel safe again because I know he has the strength and superhuman ability to save me if the worst happens before Monday, so I hope he has no reason to leave me again.

Even though this tremor was strong, it was still nothing compared to the quake I'd experienced in Italy in 2016, which was 6.2 on the Richter scale. That one had literally shaken me out of my bed, even though Perugia, which was where we were staying at the time, was many miles away from the epicenter. Hundreds of buildings had collapsed in the region and about three hundred lives had been lost, and some of the aftershocks were just as terrifying as the main quake. This time when the building started to shake, for the first few seconds I genuinely thought it was the Big One and that Alice had messed up and I admit I panicked, but the shaking abated before I had a chance to even think about what to do if the building started to collapse.

When I was sure the shaking had stopped and while I was clearing up the mess from the shattered kitchen window, at the same time watching the pandemonium in the street below, I went over all the outlandish things that had happened to me since returning home from Scotland. After I'd spent a quiet week in Forks with Charlie getting some much-needed rest, from the moment I walked into the Municipal Tower my whole world had gone bat-shit crazy.

Over and above all the madness surrounding the murals and the impending disaster, I'd fallen properly in love with someone who was in effect a 'fantasy boyfriend'; never mind the fact he wasn't even human. Edward was unbelievably good looking, an amazing lover (oh yeah), an incredible artist, he liked kids, he fixed my heating, he made good coffee; basically he _sparkled_ in every way. It made me wonder whether he was just too good to be true and one day I'd discover he had a darker side lurking underneath his flawless ivory skin, over and above his instinctive desire to kill me of course. I doubted it, even though I had a feeling Edward could be terrifying if he got angry.

I'd chuckled to myself as I'd remembered being a teenager in Florida, lounging around in my bedroom with my girlfriends from school. I suppose we probably would have been in our 8th or 9th grade at the time; about fourteen or fifteen years old I would guess. We would fantasize about our futures like all girls do and for a giggle we'd write down a description of our perfect husband (obviously discounting Justin Bieber at the time). Edward ticked every box on my list; apart from I didn't know yet whether he liked music or animals. He obviously _ate_ animals, but was he kind to the ones he wasn't eating? But even though Edward is nothing like the lovely Justin, I know I'll never find anyone better than him, even though we're a totally different species.

I acknowledge that I'd probably too calmly accepted that I share the planet with supernatural beings. I hadn't had time to think about this too deeply which is probably because of all the other ridiculous things going on in my head at the moment. This revelation, which most probably would have floored me if I'd learned it a few months ago, was actually much less important than knowing Seattle was going to be destroyed, so I hadn't really allotted enough brain-time to it. I'd just accepted it as fact; the same as if NASA announced they'd found evidence of alien life on other planets. So what?

I now knew 'friends' I'd grown up with, like Jake, could turn into wolves, and vampires really existed and were immortal. Okay, Edward wasn't scary, apart from the time when we were in bed and my life was definitely in the balance, but it made me wonder whether there were any other types of supernatural creatures wandering around that I didn't know about. Did I really want or need to know this though, as I'd be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life if there was something else out there that could randomly attack and consume helpless females. Having a fear of rats, spiders and snakes was bad enough; adding trolls, goblins or zombies would be too much.

Jay had suggested that Edward was planning to ask me to spend eternity with him; in other words he would want me to be like him one day? If he asked me to change now, I know I'd be torn between living a natural human life, which would mean I would grow old and die while Edward stayed young and strong, or agreeing to be like him; the implications of which were too momentous for me to even contemplate at the moment. I was still amazed that Jay was considering jumping into the lifestyle without really thinking it through. He'd admitted to me he didn't know which way was up at the moment, so he would be crazy to make any sort of decision that would be irreversible once taken. I felt like I should talk some sense into him, but wasn't sure whether I'd see him again before he set sail for Alaska with Alice. I suppose I could call or text him. I laughed then, thinking of the text I would write. 'Hold on, Jasper. Don't rush to become a Vampire!'

A lot of course hinged on whether Charlie survived or not. If he did, there was no way I could agree to be changed while he was alive as he'd spot the difference in me immediately. My dad is a 'hugger', in that he always flings his arms around me at every opportunity and would instantly spot that his daughter was now made of marble. I couldn't do that to him, so this at least would be an easy decision for me to make. But would Edward be prepared to watch me grow old and then change me after Charlie passed away? I had so many questions but not many answers yet.

Jay said that Alice told him she'd been attacked in a park so she'd obviously been changed without her agreement. If I had a chance to talk to her on her own, then maybe she could give me some guidance as she'd only been a vampire for a relatively short period of time. I am of course presuming that Edward is thinking of me as a long-term proposition. I could be just a passing distraction of course; another notch on his six-hundred year old bedpost. I wondered then how many other sexual partners he'd had over this time and whether he'd actually 'loved' any of them, and were any of his past lovers still alive. That would be awkward, and possibly quite dangerous for me if I was still human, as there may be a bitter and twisted female vampire out there who was still in love with him.

I stopped thinking up ridiculous scenarios and turned my attention back to Charlie's situation. If Jake was really turning into a wolf or was already a wolf before Edward ran over him, then there were three possibilities. Either his organs were unaffected and Charlie would be okay, or his liver was carrying the 'supernatural gene' which could adversely affect him, possibly turning him into a wolf as well, or the gene would make his liver incompatible anyway. So that meant Charlie was either going to live normally, change into a wolf, or die. I couldn't get my head around that at all. I just hoped Edward or someone he knew would have some knowledge about this or I was going to go crazy watching for changes in Charlie's appearance, like becoming hairy. I mean, what would the signs be?

I was still thinking about all the craziness I'd have to contend with if I survived after Monday when I heard Edward rushing up the stairs and shouting if I was okay. I hadn't seen Edward's car arrive and I don't know how he got in through the outside door, but he did, and now I'm being crushed against his chest which is a nice place to be but I wish it wasn't so chilly. I'm not going to complain though as I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be.

"Did Alice know about this tremor," I ask as he's brushing my hair away from my face then running his fingers through it. I can tell he really likes my hair; in fact I could say he's obsessed by it.

"I don't know," he replies. "I haven't called her. I was trying to get to you and it's a bit chaotic out there right now. As I suspected would happen, there's a mass exodus out of the city going on at the moment. It looks like folks haven't bothered waiting for the next announcement from the Mayor."

"That's good, isn't it? That's what you wanted," I ask curiously because Edward sounds concerned.

"Yes, of course it is, but I'm hoping the Mayor won't be complacent now and think what just happened was the Big One we predicted. We still need him to warn folks who are still here about the tsunami."

I switch the TV on and the local news is reporting on damage in the city. This time many people had been injured by falling masonry and there'd been several car wrecks. The news station's helicopters were up and reporting that roads leading out of the city were exceptionally busy, even for a Friday, but there were no new announcements from the Mayor yet. One of the news anchors even said this was obviously what the Mayor had been predicting and it would be safe to come back to the city now, which was crazy.

I could tell Edward was concerned about this so I had to think of a way to convince the Mayor this was only a drill for the Big One. I make myself some coffee which always helps my brain cells work and after the first few sips I have an idea.

"Edward, can you call Alice and ask her about the race on Saturday. I want to know as much detail as possible about it, like who comes second and third, how fast it's run, that sort of thing. If she can do it, I'm going to call the Mayor and tell him you've been in contact again."

"Sure," he replies and calls her, putting her on speakerphone so I can join in the conversation.

"Okay, I'll do my best," Alice replies when I put the proposition to her. "You'll have to give me some time and I'll text you the details."

"Thanks," I reply and Edward hangs up. I phone Jim then who I know has the Mayor's direct line for emergencies. After I've taken the number down, I suggest to Edward that we set off for the hospital now as it might take us longer than usual to get there. Also we'd need to set off earlier from the hospital to get to the art club in time.

While we're in the car I tell Edward I'm worried that Jacob's liver might be infecting Charlie with the supernatural gene. He tells me he spoke to a member of his family about that who's medically qualified (another surprise), who said in his opinion it wouldn't happen. Edward convinced me not to think about it as it was too late to do anything about it now even if it had, and it was my dad's only option anyway, which of course was true.

It takes us nearly two hours to get to the hospital as the roads are packed due to the amount of folks who are trying to leave, plus some roads have had to be closed because of damaged buildings and rubble blocking the streets. Queues are forming to get onto the freeway and tempers are definitely getting frayed, but luckily Edward knows the back routes which means we don't get properly stuck in a grid-lock anywhere.

Dad is awake when I walk into the Unit and I notice straight away he isn't wired up to as many machines as this morning, which I take as a good sign. I also notice his skin colour is almost back to normal. Before the operation it had a sickly hue to it and the whites of his eyes were tinged with yellow. Now he looks more like the old Charlie, even though he's still very thin and pale.

"Hey!" I say and give him a kiss on the forehead. I automatically take hold of his hand as I sit next to him and he smiles as he squeezes my fingers. "How do you feel?" I ask.

"Okay; better than this morning," he replies. "I can stay awake for at least an hour now," he says almost boastfully.

"That's good. Did you feel the tremor a few hours ago?"

"Oh yeah; alarms were going off everywhere and everyone was panicking. It's a long time since I felt one as strong as that. Is there much damage in the city?

I'm just about to answer and tell him about the impending quake when a nurse comes up to the bed.

"I'm sorry, Bella, would you mind leaving the ward," she says kindly. "The doctors are just about to do their rounds; you can come back in about half an hour."

"Sure," I reply and squeeze dad's hand again before letting go.

After shedding my Smurf outfit, I make my way to the waiting room where Edward is looking at the same magazine Jasper had been reading earlier on.

"That was quick," he remarks when I come through the door.

"Doctor's rounds," I explain and sit next to him. "I'd liked to have been in there to hear what they have to say but hopefully dad will be able to tell me some good news."

"I've heard from Alice," Edward announces and shows me a text, listing all the details I need. I immediately call the Mayor's number but only get his voicemail, so I leave the following message.

 _'Sir, its Bella Swan. I've received another communication from the artist. He wants me to pass on to you that Always Dreaming will win the race in exactly two minutes, three point five-nine seconds. The second horse will be Lookin at Lee and the third will be Battle of Midway. He also wants me to ask you to stress to the residents that after the quake happens, a tsunami will swamp the exact area he drew on the wall, and to get out while they have the chance._

 _Sir, I'm happy for you to take all the credit for this, but would you do one thing for me. My father is a patient in the University Hospital in Pacific Street. Could you instruct the hospital to evacuate, as they seem to be very complacent about your initial message. If you can do this, I would be forever grateful to you."_

I disconnect the call and lean my head on Edward's shoulder.

"I've done as much as I can," I sigh. "I'm not going to call him anymore; it's in his hands now."

I see Charlie again but only briefly as I can tell he's tired. I don't mention the imminent disaster; I can do that tomorrow. I have a quick word with one of the nurses who says that the doctors were very pleased with dad's progress so far which is great news. After that Edward and I leave for the art club.

We get there early and I help him set up. Edward is very quiet and I guess he's thinking that maybe this will be the last time he'll see the kids together as a group. They start coming in at just before seven, but by a quarter past there are only about half the number that had been here on Monday. There's a subdued atmosphere in the club and I can tell some of the older children are worried about what's going on in the city. One of the boys tells me that many of his friends from school have already left and are heading inland to Portland or other places. A lot more were planning to travel over the weekend.

When it's almost nine o'clock, Edward tells the children that the club will be closed on Monday and will stayed closed until further notice. He has their contact phone numbers so he promises to call their parents when the club is ready to re-open. He asks them to take home their work which is displayed around the room plus any personal belongings they normally keep here. As they leave, he speaks to all the adults who turn up to collect the children and urges them to leave the city, saying he knows a guy who works at the University and they're a hundred percent convinced there's going to be a really destructive quake very soon. Only a couple of the parents are dismissive, but they're all still leaving town just to be on the safe side.

After the kids have gone, Edward sends a text to the parents of the kids who didn't turn up tonight to let them know that the club is closed until further notice then I help him take down all the remaining art work from the walls and clear the shelves of anything that's been left behind. We load as much as possible into the Volvo then go back to lock up. Edward takes a long last look before he closes the door for possibly the last time. The vast space looks sad, like a house after Christmas when all the decorations have been taken down, and I know Edward is choked that this important part of his life has more than likely come to an end. He doesn't say much when we drive away so I leave him to his thoughts. He's done as much as he can to save these kids; it's up to their parents now to get them out of danger before Monday.

Edward slows the car down as we're approaching McDonalds but I say no this time. I'm still feeling the effects of over-indulgence earlier in the day. I wonder then how Jasper is feeling after his double Big Mac blow-out.

We go straight back to my apartment and to bed where we make love all night long; well it seems like all night long but I do manage to get _some_ sleep. It's in the early hours of the morning after another amazing experience that I wonder for the first time whether Edward could get me pregnant. I'm still taking contraceptive pills prescribed to me when I started a short-term relationship with a guy in Scotland, for no other reason than they keep me 'regular'. They run out in the middle of June so I'd have to ask him whether there was any risk of me giving birth to a baby vampire which would be a bit scary; well actually being a mother of any sort of baby would be scary at the moment.

 **Saturday 1st May**

When I wake up I realise it's Saturday and I haven't got much food in the fridge, as up until Wednesday when Charlie was called into the hospital, I was still planning to go to Forks for the weekend. I leave Edward in the apartment having a shower and wander over to the store to get some milk, bread and eggs for breakfast. When I walk in most of the shelves are empty and it's obvious the shop had already been cleaned out by folks buying supplies. The girl on the checkout takes pity on me when she sees my face and sells me some day-old bagels she's kept back for her regular customers, but warns me that the shop will be closing sometime during the day as none of their suppliers are bringing trucks into the city, after which her family will be getting out of town.

Alice and Jasper turn up at midday in a very expensive looking Range Rover to collect my clothes and all the other things I want to save from my apartment, including my two fan heaters which I insist on keeping just out of principle. Edward fills the rest of the trunk and the back seat with his art club equipment plus some of the kids' artwork that he doesn't want to leave behind.

From the moment Alice and Jasper walked into my apartment, it's pretty obvious to me that they'd spent the night together, as the chemistry between them was patently obvious. For a start they both couldn't stop giggling, and considering the seriousness of the situation, they were behaving like two love-sick teenagers. Even Edward, who was obviously reading their minds, was mightily embarrassed by their PDA and was glad when they left.

In the afternoon we headed for the hospital, expecting the journey to take two hours again but it actually takes us less than half an hour to get there as the city is definitely emptying. Edward sits in the waiting room while I make my way to the unit but I'm stopped by a nurse before I have a chance to get my Smurf outfit on. She tells me that Charlie has improved enough to be moved out of the High Dependency Unit and into a single room on the same floor because he doesn't need round the clock monitoring any more. When I eventually find his room and walk in, Charlie is sitting up in bed watching TV and is looking amazingly well considering it's still only three days since he had the operation. He's still wired up to some impressive looking equipment, but nothing like what was in the HDU.

At just coming up to four in the afternoon we watch the Kentucky Derby together and I tell Charlie the name of the horse I got in the sweepstake. As predicted Always Dreaming wins, with Lookin' at Lee and Battle of Midway coming up behind. I joke with Charlie that for the first time in my life I've actually won something, but I don't tell him I won't be able to collect my prize of over a hundred dollars because no-one will be in work on Monday. Just my luck. About five minutes after the race is over, a news anchor breaks into the sports channel to say that the Mayor of Seattle is making an important announcement about the recent earthquake and to stay tuned.

"What's that all about?" Charlie asks.

"I'll tell you after I've heard what he says," I answer quietly as the Mayor's face appears on the screen. He looks as though he's aged ten years since Thursday and he doesn't mince his words.

 _"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, I am speaking to you in the hope you will take on board everything I'm about to tell you and act on it immediately._

 _"A few minutes ago I received the strongest evidence yet that a severe quake out at sea is now imminent. There is no doubt this will cause a tsunami … a tidal wave … to hit the coastline, which will flood a huge part of our state, plus parts of Oregon and British Columbia. The Seismologists have also informed me that it is possible that some areas of our shoreline will collapse into the sea so it is imperative you get as far away from the coast as possible._

 _I am urging folks who haven't already left, to evacuate the area marked out on the map behind me. This will be displayed on screen after this announcement and is now on every news channels' website. If for any reason you cannot leave, at least make your way to high ground of at least a hundred and fifty feet above sea level, preferably away from buildings and trees, and stay there until you get the all clear. There will be an emergency number displayed on the screen shortly, but this is for life and death situations only._

 _"The National Guard is on their way to assist, but all Government buildings will be closed until the danger is over. This includes schools and colleges and all local government offices, apart from two Emergency Operation Centers which will be situated on high ground. I am instructing hospitals to stop all elective surgery and to evacuate their patients to outside the danger zone. Two trauma rooms will remain open until Sunday night, but these are also for life and death emergencies only. The state Governor has been informed and I have notified officials across the border in Canada about the severe risk to Vancouver Island and the city._

 _"I am instructing the owners of buildings having more than ten floors to leave the doors to the stairwells open, so if for any reason you have to remain in the city, you will have somewhere to escape to before the flood hits._ _Looters and anyone who takes advantage of this situation will have the full force of the law heaped on their heads once the emergency is over._

 _"I will end with this message. Look out for your family first, but if you know of anyone who is old or disabled who needs assistance, please do the right thing and help if you can._

 _Good Luck and God Bless."_

"Holy Smoke, Bella!" Charlie exclaims then he turns to me. "How long have you known about this?"

"Quite a while; it's a long story," I reply. "We have to get you out of here, dad. I've already asked the doctors what their plan is, but up until yesterday they were going to ride it out. I'm hoping they'll change their minds after this."

"Bella, you can't hang around. I want you out of the city tonight. Don't even think about staying with me. You've got to be safe."

"I will be safe, dad. I've got Ed… " and then I snap my mouth shut.

"Who the hell's Ed? What aren't you telling me, Bella?"

"Errr, he's here. I'd better bring him in to meet you. Don't go mad; he's a lovely guy and he's really important to me. Okay?"

Charlie does one of his' harrumphs' and I skedaddle out the room before he can see my face bursting into flames. I count to twenty then make my way to the waiting room where Edward is watching a repeat of the Mayor's speech on his phone.

"Hey!" I say as I walk in. Edward jumps up and is over to me in a flash. How the hell does he move so fast?

"What's the matter? Is your dad okay; your face is bright red?" He puts his hands on my shoulders and I can see he's expecting me to cave.

"He's fine, but I accidentally mentioned you. Ummm, would you like to meet him?" I give him a sheepish smile as I hate putting him on the spot.

"Sure; of course I would," he says gently. "What did you say to him?"

"I implied you were looking after me."

"Well, that's true. I'm staying with you until you're ready to leave."

"But what about Alice and Jasper and the boat."

"They've already sailed, Bella. Alice is quite capable of handling it herself. Anyway, she's got Jasper to keep her company; she won't want me around."

"But…"

"No buts, Bella. I'm not leaving your side, even if you're here when the quake hits. I won't be in any danger and I'll make sure you're not either. Now let's go and see your dad. I'll put his mind at rest."

"He'll want to shake your hand, Edward."

"That's okay; I know what to do."

I look at him strangely but follow him out the door without questioning him then along the corridor towards Charlie's room. We pass a vending machine where Edward buys a bottle of chilled water then holds it in his right hand as we walk into the room.

"This is Edward, dad," I stutter and I know I'm going red again. "He's been a great help to me over the last few days," I add then move out the way so Edward can move forward.

"Pleased to meet you, Sir," Edward says in a firm voice then he transfers the bottle to his left hand and proffers his right one to shake. "Sorry, my hand's freezing."

I can see dad assessing Edward from head to toe. Luckily Edward's eyes are almost a normal color at the moment and the lighting in the room doesn't make him look too shiny.

"Edward what?" he asks in a gruff voice.

"Cullen, Sir. My father, brother and I run a boat repair business in Elliott Bay. We've been in Seattle for the past thirteen years."

"How do you know Bella," he grunts. "She hasn't been in Seattle for five minutes."

"Errr, we bumped into one another in the queue in her local store. We got talking and realised we were both interested in art. I offered to take her around some of the local galleries."

"Really?" he mumbles under his breath as if he didn't believe him.

"That's enough with the interrogation," I insist. "Edward has been very kind driving me back and forth. I'm very grateful to him. Now, we've got to talk about the earthquake. I'm going to insist you're moved by tomorrow at the latest. The Mayor has made the announcement, so I'm going to try and find out what's happening."

"But I still want you to get out of the city," he growls angrily. "Don't hang around waiting for me; I'll be okay." He turns to Edward and starts wagging his finger at him. "Edward, I want you to convince her to go now."

"I can't do that, Sir," he replies and shakes his head as though he's despairing with me. "I've already tried and she's insistent she's staying with you. I'm not leaving her either, so I'll make sure she's safe; I promise."

I stand up and move towards the door. "I'm going to find a doctor or anybody who can tell me what's going on. I'm not leaving this hospital until I've got some answers about when you're being moved."

I dash out of the room before Charlie can stop me and walk along to the nurses' station which is a hive of activity. I can clearly see tensions are running high so I guess that the balloon has already gone up and plans to evacuate or discharge the patients are already full swing. Eventually I catch the eye of one of the nurses who comes over to me.

"Can you tell me what's happening about evacuating my father, Charlie Swan?" I ask and give her a big smile as I don't want her to think I'm being pushy.

"Liver transplant?" she says as a question.

"Yes," I reply nervously.

She walks over to a desk and looks at the computer screen then comes back to me with a worried look on her face.

"Your father is too sick to be moved I'm afraid. We won't be able to transport him while he's still connected to the machine that's supporting his liver, so it'll be Tuesday at the earliest before he's well enough."

"What," I screech. "You've got to evacuate him before then. He's doing really well."

"I'm sorry," she says kindly. "We have a large number of critical patients who can't be moved and your father is one of them. He'll have to stay here, at least until his liver is functioning totally independently. The hospital is well built, Miss Swan, so he should be fine if the worst happens."

I can't get mad at her as it isn't her decision. The doctors have made their minds up and that is it. I have no other option but to ride it out with him which terrifies the life out of me.

I wander back to dad's room in a dilemma what to say to him. I can't tell him I know when the quake is going to happen as this would stress him out completely. I would have to brush over it then discuss the problem with Edward as soon as we're on our own.

"What did they say," Edward asks when I walk back in.

"They'll evacuate dad as soon as possible," I reply, "But not for a few days," I add then gave him a hard stare which he picks up on immediately.

Charlie is looking tired by now so I tell him I'm going but I'll be back tomorrow. I give him a hug and a kiss then Edward shakes his hand again. As we walk out the door Charlie's eyes are already closing but he manages to give me a wave as I glance behind me.

"Tuesday," I spit as we walk along the corridor. "Not before then. I'm not leaving him, Edward."

"I know that," he responds with a resigned tone to his voice. "I won't leave you either, but there are other options; we'll discuss them in the car, okay?"

"Okay," I grumble, wondering what he's got up his sleeve, but whatever it is it isn't going to change my mind.

He doesn't start the car up when we get back in but sits quietly for a moment and I can guess he's making sure he gets his words in the right order so as not to wind me up. I'm still adamant I'm not going to abandon Charlie, but there's no harm in listening to what he has to say so I stay quiet until he speaks.

"We know what time the quake is going to happen, right?"

"Right," I agree.

"There's a small chance the hospital might collapse, right?"

"Right," I agree again.

"You do realise the chances are you'll be killed if that happens. Your dad is on the third floor in a room with no windows. There are seven other floors on top of him. You'll be crushed to death and there is nothing I can do to protect you from that, even if I try to shield you from it. I'm not _that_ strong. Do you understand that, Bella?"

"Yes, but….."

"There are no buts about it. Do you really want your dad's last image of you being one where you have a large lump of concrete landing on your head and possibly decapitating you?"

"No, but…."

"So what's the point of you being in the room with him at 8.03 on Monday evening?"

"I can't bear the thought of him being on his own, Edward."

"Look, if the quake destroys the hospital, his dying thoughts will be that he's glad you're not there with him; don't you understand this? What I'm suggesting to you is we stay in Seattle, somewhere near here, probably in the middle of a park or somewhere like that. If the hospital survives, great; we can get back in there and be with him when the tsunami hits and stay with him for as long as necessary. If not, then I'll get you out of Seattle to somewhere safe and away from the tsunami."

Even though I hate to admit it I can see the sense in Edward's proposition. I could stay with dad on Monday evening then get out the hospital before the quake hits and stay safe. At least then if dad survives, I'll be around to assist him as much as I can. There's no point me risking my life, and I imagine those few seconds of terror when the hospital starts to shake violently and the possible guilt my dad would suffer if he survived and I didn't. I take a deep breath before delivering my verdict on his suggestion.

"Okay, Edward. We'll do it your way, and thanks for saying you'll stay with me. I don't know how I would've coped without you."

Edward pulls me across and kisses me on the top of my head then turns my face up so we were eye to eye.

"I love you, Bella Swan. I'm not going anywhere without you from now on. You're my life now."

"Likewise," I reply, and I really meant it. I just hope I have some life left after all this to enjoy being with him.

* * *

 **So do you think she'll have the strength to leave Charlie when the clock is approaching 8.03? Even if she does do what Edward says and goes somewhere 'safe' with him, if the hospital collapses do you think they'll have enough time to get out of the city before the water catches up with them?**

 **It all comes to a head in the next chapter as time has definitely run out. It will be very tense - I promise.**

 **Joan xx**


	27. Chapter 27

As I'm writing this, I'm watching the horrific pictures from Palu in Indonesia, which has just suffered a 7.5 earthquake out at sea which has caused a tsunami to hit the coastal town with a 6 metre/10 foot wave. Seattle is situated at the end of an inlet, just like Palu. Also, like Palu, Puget Sound has high ground on one side, which would cause the wave to speed up and get taller as it has nowhere else to go. This is why seismologists predict a 9.0 event would create a 30 metre/100 foot wave.

My thoughts are with the people of Indonesia right now.

* * *

 **MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

* * *

 **Bella**

Saturday and Sunday were two of the most intense days I'd ever lived through.

For a start I was either going back and forth to hospital to see Charlie, through a city which was gradually turning into a ghost town, or I was at home in the apartment with Edward. Sorry, let me re-phrase that, I was at home, in bed, with Edward. It wasn't because I was making the most of possibly my last few days on earth, as Edward had convinced me to be somewhere safe when the quake hit; it was just the normal passion of being in a new relationship. The getting to know one another's minds and bodies, but this time I was getting to know the mind and unbelievably sexy body of a vampire.

In between those two distractions, we did go out occasionally just to see what was going on in the city. Seattle was slowly emptying itself of its residents but there were still plenty of folks who had chosen to stay behind. Some of them were busying themselves by wasting time boarding up the doors and windows of their homes or businesses, almost like they were preparing for a hurricane. The remainder were the people who obviously didn't believe the Mayor's warnings and were determined to carry on as usual.

SeaTac closed its runways to all flights in and out on Sunday night except for official business, helicopters and emergencies. The ferries which carried thousands of people and cars every day of the year across Puget Sound were sent north away from the city on Saturday night, so once they'd cleared the Olympic Peninsula, they could travel south down the Pacific coast and ride out the storm, so to speak, somewhere off the coast of Oregon. The ferries joined an armada of boats of all sizes heading in the same direction, which included Edward's father piloting an allegedly very valuable Italian speedboat with Alice and Jasper following behind at a more leisurely pace in an ocean-going yacht filled with everything Jasper and I wanted to save from our apartments plus what Edward wanted to save from the art club. When Edward told me in the hospital that Alice and Jasper had already left, I felt really frightened for the first time. Jasper and Alice were sailing to safety, whereas I was staying behind to experience a disaster of epic proportions.

The TV and radio stations talked of nothing else and a constant stream of experts on earthquakes and tsunamis gave their opinions on what could happen in a worst case scenario, which would terrify the life out of me if I had to stay in the city and didn't have a vampire looking after me. The traffic co-ordinators were doing a magnificent job keeping the roads moving; turning the highways into one-way only routes on Saturday and Sunday, and the bus and railway services were providing free transportation to the sick, the elderly or disabled who had no other means of getting away.

The National Guard poured into the city on Saturday afternoon to help with the evacuation and to patrol the streets to prevent any looters taking advantage of the situation. By Sunday afternoon the city seemed on the surface to be deserted but there was still plenty of evidence to show that it wasn't. Edward and I went out for some fresh air before going to the hospital and we walked past apartment buildings where we could hear the TV on inside or music playing. One bar we passed was having an 'Earthquake Party' and it seemed to be full of people having a good time. I just hoped it wasn't the last party these folks ever attended.

There were no stores open but I managed to get some food in the hospital, mainly in the form of whatever was still left in the vending machines. By Sunday evening the echoing corridors which were usually bustling places full of staff and patients going about their business, were now eerily silent apart from our footfalls. It actually felt creepy being inside a building that resembled the Marie Celeste.

Charlie had been moved to a private room on the ninth floor along with all the other critical patients who couldn't be evacuated. Each time we visited, the number of machines he was attached to had been reduced by one and I wondered whether it would be worth finding out whether he was well enough to be transported yet. I asked at the nurses' station, but there were no doctors around who could make that decision which was irritating, but the nurse did tell me they were having difficulty finding beds in other hospitals now for patients who were well enough to be moved. I therefore resigned myself to the fact that he would still be here on Monday night, but I still hoped for a miracle.

Edward had left me at the hospital on Sunday evening but wouldn't tell me where he was going. He just said he'd be back before the end of visiting time which he was. He called me from the parking lot and said he'd meet me outside which I thought was strange, but I didn't question him in front of Charlie. At nine o'clock when the nurses told me I had to leave, I wandered down to the practically deserted lot and slid into the car next to him. When I went to kiss him I noticed his eyes were a bright golden color again, like the time when I saw him up close at the art club.

"My, what bright eyes you've got, grandma," I joke then kiss him again.

"Ha ha ha!" he exclaims as he turns on the ignition then he growls like a wolf which was actually very realistic. Before moving off he leans over and sniffs me then says, "Snickers bar?" as a question.

"Yes, how can you tell?"

"I can smell it. Can you sniff me and guess what I've just eaten?"

I lean over and sniff his shirt but all I can pick up is a fresh smell like grass. I shake my head.

"It's deer, Bella; in fact it's two deer. I thought it would be a good idea to feed now because when the quake hits, the animals in the forest will make a run for it. I'll probably have to do without food for a few weeks, but that's okay."

"Right," I say as we drive out of the lot. I have a hundred questions to ask about how he feeds but now isn't the time. Just the idea of him sucking blood out of a deer makes me feel queasy.

When we get home Edward goes straight to the bathroom to have a shower while I make myself some coffee. I have a few spoonful's left which would last me tomorrow plus I have about a third of a box of my cinnamon crunch cereal, but alas, no milk. As I wander over to the sofa, it strikes me how quickly a city can cease functioning as one by one every service grinds to a halt. I just hope and pray those workers who have stayed by their posts, and the National Guard and the police, can get to somewhere safe when the quake happens.

Edward emerges from the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is still damp and sticking out in every direction and he looks very sexy. My lady bits are getting very excited again as I can see he has that look in his eye which means he definitely has plans to make the most of having a double bed to play on tonight. Goodness knows where I'll be sleeping tomorrow night and for a while after that.

He scoops me off the sofa and slings me onto the bed causing me to bounce off the mattress a few inches, but he's on top of me before I hit the surface again. Within seconds he has all my clothes off, (how does he do this), and is inside me a few seconds after that. He'd obviously got aroused in the shower and now I'm getting the benefit.

"No foreplay?" I ask cheekily.

"Do you want some?" he replies as he starts moving over me.

"Not particularly," I pant as he's already building up quite a momentum.

"Good, 'cos you're not getting any," he grunts and then he really steps up the pace.

He spreads my legs out almost like I'm doing the splits; his cold hands firmly gripping the inside of my knees which prevents me from moving them an inch. 'This is new' I muse as he pounds into my core, but I soon realise why he's doing this as he's shifted to a different angle and has found my previously illusive internal 'G' spot.

I nearly fly off the bed.

After only a few more thrusts I totally lose control and have the most mind-blowing, earth-shattering, limb-loosening orgasm of my life and he keeps it going until I have to yell at him to stop.

"Nice?" he asks with a grin on his face when I finally stop shaking and open my eyes.

"Y-y-yeaaaaah," I moan as I wrap myself around him. "Where on earth did you learn how to do that?"

"A guy in Venice taught me some years ago."

"A GUY!"

"No … not like that. He sort of gave me some hints on what to do to please the ladies."

"Really?" I sigh. "What's his name? I'd like to write and thank him."

"Guess," he replies then starts moving again.

Listing off Italian guy's names is not a priority right now as he pulls me on top of him then proceeds to pound into me from below. I can tell he's totally relaxed with me now, in that he isn't concerned that he's going to lose control and bite me anymore, so now I'm receiving the full-on Edward experience.

It doesn't bother me that he's probably had hundreds of lovers during his life. I'm his first and hopefully last human woman, and this knowledge will always make me feel special. As I look down on him seeing the enjoyment he's getting from my body, I know how lucky I've been to find this man; and he is a man in my eyes. I don't know whether we have a future together, but I'm determined to enjoy every minute of being with him and I'm going to do my utmost to make him happy.

"I love you," I say in the most caring voice I can muster in the circumstances.

"I know you do, and I love you," he replies then his golden eyes roll back in his head as he comes inside me. I move on top of him to keep his orgasm going like he'd done for me and watch as his face distorts into pure ecstasy and I feel like crying with joy because I'm doing this for him.

I eventually fall asleep in his arms and I'm still there when I wake in the morning, but not crushed against his body as he knows by now this makes me uncomfortable.

 **Monday May 8th**

The drapes are open and sunlight is streaming in from above the adjacent building which surprises me. I've never seen my apartment in full sunlight before and know instantly that it's late.

"What time is it?" I ask as I feel confused for a moment.

"A little after ten," Edward replies softly. "I let you sleep in as you were exhausted, plus I doubt whether you're going to get much sleep tonight.

I snuggle up against my cold lover and run my hands over his chest. Today is the day disaster is going to hit this amazing city and I'm already mourning the loss of it. And then I remember with horror that I hadn't called Mike to warn him to stay in Forks with Jessica. I jump out of bed and grab my cell phone, find his number and call.

"Mike!" I yell down the phone. "Where are you?"

"Still in Forks, Bella. The colleges are closed so I'm staying down here with my folks and Jess for a few more days. What's up?"

"Nothing," I reply and breathe a sigh of relief which I'm sure he's heard. "I was just hoping you hadn't come back to the city. Are you and your family going to travel to somewhere safe?"

"Nope. My folks are refusing to leave like most of the residents in the town. They reckon they'll be fine because we're so high up which I think is crazy, but I can't abandon them just in case it happens. So where have you got to then; I presume you've already left Seattle?"

"I'm still here because of Charlie, Mike."

I look over at Edward who's staring at me intently. I know he's worried about what I'm going to say.

"Look, Mike, I know this is going to sound nuts, but will you do something for me?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Will you and Jess, and your mom and dad, go to the football field at about seven-thirty tonight and stay there for a few hours?"

"Why?"

"Just humor me, Mike. In fact, can you get as many folks as possible out into the open at about that time. Organise some sort of activity to take place there, just don't be indoors."

"Bella, you're not telling me you know when the quake is going to happen, are you?"

"Don't ask me any more questions, Mike. Just do it, okay?"

"Okay. But you've got to promise to tell me what's going on later."

"I can't do that; I'm sorry. Just don't tell anyone what I've just told you and promise me you'll stay safe."

"I promise and I will; you too, Bella." Then he adds, "If it happens, just let me know somehow that you're alright."

"I will," I reply then I disconnect the call as I don't want to actually say goodbye to him.

Edward clambers out of bed and wanders over to me and puts his arm around my shoulders. "You can't save everybody, Bella. The chances are you're going to lose people tonight, but you've done everything possible to warn them so you mustn't feel guilty."

I shake my head as I still have the urge to shout from the rooftops what's going to happen, but I know I can't do this without drawing attention to how I know for certain. Edward is trying to be supportive, but I can't help thinking about all the people in Forks I know; especially the kids I went to High School with, and the teachers, and dad's friends like Billy and Sue, and all the people he worked with.

"Edward, how would you feel if it was one of the kids at the club? Wouldn't you want to save them?"

"Of course I would, but I've done all I can, Bella. The rest is up to their parents or guardians. I can't force them to leave."

"But you'd be gutted if you knew they hadn't left town, wouldn't you."

"Yes, you know I would, but I won't know whether they did or they didn't unless I call every family, and to be honest I don't know if I ever want to find out. I doubt whether the warehouse will survive the quake and the tsunami, so the probability is that the art club is finished for ever and I'll never see the kids again."

"I'm sorry," I say and snuggle up close to him. We're both stark naked but sex isn't on my mind. Today is crunch time; in other words I have to focus on the fact that time had run out. I'd have to start thinking practically, which means collecting up the last few things I want to save out of the apartment and then take up residence in the hospital with Charlie.

"What do you want to do today?" I ask Edward.

"I'd like to drive up to the University and obliterate what I drew on Johnson Hall. I need to destroy the evidence of what I've done just in case the building survives."

"You don't have to," I reply. "It was blasted off the wall straight after Jay and I saw it. Jim organised its removal over Jay's head because the University was furious, so he diverted a cleaning team down there. They just treated it like any other graffiti."

I notice Edward visibly relaxing when I tell him this and I'm curious why he's had that reaction.

"Was this important then?"

Edward nods and I can tell he's debating whether he wants to tell me why. In the end he speaks, but for some reason he can't look me in the eye and he's wringing his hands as well, so I know it's going to be serious.

"Bella, most vampires choose to live secretly, in other words not to live out in the open like my family. The majority of our kind are nomads; wandering the earth with no permanent home. I was like that for many years; in fact I've only ever had three what you would consider to be permanent homes in my life. However all vampires, nomads as well, have rules they have to live by to keep our kind from being discovered. There's a group of ruling vampires called the Volturi who ensure we don't break those rules. If we do, then the penalties are severe. Alice and I broke one of their rules by using our abilities to warn the city about the earthquake. If this was discovered by these vampires, Alice and I would have to go on the run until they caught us, which they would eventually."

"What would happen then?" I ask.

"We would be taken to Italy to a place called Volterra and neither of us would ever see the light of day again."

I gasp when he says this and throw my arms around him.

"That's not going to happen, is it?" I practically sob.

"I hope not, and if things stay as they are and no-one mentions the murals I might get away with it, but one day I might just disappear. If this happens, it won't be because I don't love you anymore; it'll be because they've found out what I've done or invented another excuse to 'arrest me', and have either finished me off there and then or they've taken me away. You mustn't ever come looking for me if that happens as you'll never find me and you'll only put your own life at risk."

"So they know you can read minds and Alice can see the future?" I ask with a shaky voice.

"Yes, so she's in as much in danger as me; in fact probably more so. She'll be their number one suspect for sure, but if they catch her they'll easily find out I was involved as well. Their supreme leader, who is called Aro, has this totally irrational fear that my family want to usurp him. He's suspicious of us and would kill us all if he had a good enough excuse. The only thing that's stopping him is that Carlisle is highly respected in our world, and there would be uproar if he tried to destroy us with no good reason."

"Oh God!" I exclaim and cover my face as I don't want him to see me crying again. I know I'm stressed, but I've been bursting into tears for the slightest reason lately and I really must try and hold it together for once. Edward flings his arms around me and kisses the top of my head, then turns my face up to his and brushes my tears away.

"Don't worry too much, Bella. I'm sure if they suspected us they'd be here already; their spies are everywhere. In fact I'm certain there are vampires nearby as there has to be a reason why Jacob was shifting into a werewolf. This only happens when vampires move into an area as it triggers humans with the gene to change. None of my family has ever been near the Quileute reservation, so I would guess some nomads are around."

The world I was living in was getting stranger and stranger by the minute. Since finding out Edward was a vampire I'd presumed Edward's main priority was not being outed by humans, but now I realised his main fear was retribution from his own kind. I decide not to question him further as ignorance is definitely bliss where vampires are concerned. I could learn more about it when today is behind us.

I wander into the bathroom and turn on the shower but just as I'm about to step into it I hear my cell phone buzzing. Edward picks it up and brings it over to me and I recognise the code for the hospital. I immediately panic.

"Hello," I say as my throat closes up and my knees start to go from underneath me.

"Good morning, Miss Swan," a woman's voice says and I immediately tell by her tone that I don't need to worry about Charlie. "Are you coming to the hospital today?" she asks.

"Yes, I'll be down in an hour or so, why?"

"Well, your father's condition has improved dramatically overnight and the doctors have decided he's well enough to be moved now. We'll be arranging for him to be transferred by helicopter sometime this afternoon, so if you would like to see him before he leaves, I suggest you come as soon as possible."

"Where are you taking him?" I reply excitedly.

"We're just sorting that out now. Most likely Portland, but we may have to take him further afield if there are no beds available there. We'll know more when you arrive."

"Thank you, thank you," I say. "I'll be there soon, thank you again."

I disconnect the call and let out a sigh of relief. Charlie was going to be evacuated and once I'd seen him off, Edward and I could get out of Seattle to somewhere safe.

"Yippee!" I cry and jump up and down on the spot, which Edward is definitely enjoying watching as I don't have a stitch on. "Everything's working out," I add elatedly and switch the shower back on.

"The day's not over yet, Bella, so we'll put off the celebrations until I've got you to somewhere safe."

"Maybe we can go with him in the helicopter?" I muse.

"I doubt it, but it doesn't matter. We'll just drive as fast as possible towards wherever he's being taken and stay there."

"You're too good to me," I reply breathlessly. I'm so happy I'm practically hyperventilating.

"I know," he says and slaps my ass. "Have your shower then we'll go straight to the hospital."

"Yes Sir," I reply and give him a saucy wink.

"Don't tempt me," he growls and closes the bathroom door on me, leaving me alone.

As I step under the shower I relax for the first time in months. My dad seems to be on the road to recovery and is being taken to a place of safety. As long as we get out of Seattle before 6pm, Edward and I would be safe too. After all this trauma, I think I'll be able to cope with anything else the world throws at me from now on.

* * *

 **Edward**

I'm mightily relieved that Charlie is being moved today, which in turn makes keeping Bella safe so much easier for me. While Bella is in the shower, I check on Google Maps which is the best route out of the city once we'd waved him away, even though it's logical to just head south towards Renton then east to escape the water. There are a number of major routes, but I need to know what my alternatives are if we hit any hold-ups. If it comes to it, I can always sling Bella on my back and run, but I'd prefer to stay with the car if at all possible. I'd already packed a small supply of food plus a tent in the trunk, just in case we're caught out in the open and can't get anywhere to stay overnight.

I'd showered while Bella was asleep so I apply my lotion and get dressed. I send a text to Alice to tell her what's going on but I don't hear back from her which isn't surprising. She'll either be concentrating on sailing the yacht or in a clinch with Jasper. Whichever, I'm sure she'll be having fun.

Bella comes out the shower with a _very_ small towel wrapped around her so I disappear into the kitchen to make coffee before my carnal instincts get the better of me again. Seeing her naked is not helping my concentration at all and I need to be alert today. I've lived through many earthquakes while I resided in Italy, including a horrific one in Calabria in the 1690's, but the one that's predicted to happen today is in a different league altogether to anything I'd experienced before.

Washington State is stunningly beautiful, but it isn't the best place to be in the middle of an earthquake because of the trees. I'd worked out that as long as we left the hospital by six-thirty at the latest, this would give us enough time to drive out of the danger zone; even accounting for hold-ups. The quake was happening at 8.03 but the tsunami wouldn't reach the city for another twenty minutes to half an hour afterwards and I figured by then we would have reached somewhere where we would still feel the quake quite severely, but we should not be in any danger from anything around us. Portland was in the danger zone for the quake but not the worst of the tsunami, so if Charlie was going there that's where we'd head for.

* * *

I know Bella is feeling emotional when we leave the apartment about half an hour later. A lot had happened in these three rooms since she moved in, including spending our first night together. It's an old building and very well-built, so perhaps it could withstand the quake and what follows, but even if it does, there's no way Bella is coming back to live here. From now on she'll be living with me.

The journey to the hospital is strange. The roads are almost clear by now but not completely abandoned. The sidewalks are quiet but not absolutely lifeless. Whenever we glimpse the bay, at first sight it seems deserted but there are still some boats on the water which surprises me. A hush has fallen on the city and it seems as though it's holding its breath, waiting for the hammer to fall.

We get to the hospital just after one. I leave Bella to go up to Charlie's floor on her own while I go on a foraging mission to plunder every vending machine in the building. I discover a virtually untouched one in what I guess is a staff room, so I empty it of every chocolate bar and soft drink on its racks then take the booty down to the Volvo. I now have enough to keep Bella going for at least for a few days, but she'll have to organise a dental appointment as soon as this is over.

I check the fuel level which is almost full then try Alice again. This time she answers. By now she's north of Vancouver approximately twenty miles south of Prince of Wales Island, so just outside of the high risk zone. She'd heard from Emmett and he'd already reached the Denali's estate and Carlisle was almost at Skagway, which was where he'd planned to moor the Riva and the yacht when Alice arrives. My family were safe, so this was one less problem to worry about.

I find Bella by the nurses' station. She's waiting to hear what time the helicopter is arriving but no-one seems to have any up to date information for her. I can tell she's getting agitated but I persuade her to walk away for a while as we still have hours to spare. I say to her that once we know that the helicopter is on its way, we should leave the hospital to give us as much time to get away as possible. She just mumbles her agreement but I know by her attitude that I'm going to have difficulty getting her to leave him until she's absolutely certain he's going to get out in time. I give her a long supportive hug before she enters Charlie's room after which she smiles and says she's okay.

Charlie is in good form. He's sitting in a high-backed chair watching TV but still wired up to a catheter plus one other machine which _I_ could hear beeping but I doubt whether Charlie or Bella could. It would've driven me insane if I'd been connected up to it all day. The local news is reporting live from the Olympic National Park where the animals are alleged to be getting jittery, which the ebullient park ranger is cheerfully saying is a sure sign an earthquake is imminent. The look on the reporter's face is priceless. Both she and every other sensible human being would be thinking, 'what the fuck are we still doing here then', which Charlie instantly verbalises, but slightly more politely.

"I'd get the hell out of there," he declares. "I said that to Billy on the phone last night."

"You called Billy?" Bella comments. "How is he?"

"He's okay, but he said he's not moving anywhere until after Jacob's funeral on Wednesday. Anyway, if the Mayor and his scientists are to be believed, their land shouldn't be too badly affected. I'm not convinced that these university-types know what they're talking about though. No-one can predict when or where an earthquake is going to happen. No-one."

Bella glances at me with a resigned look on her face as if to say 'there's no point in arguing with him'. I wasn't going to say anything anyway because he was absolutely correct in that assumption.

There's a gentle knock on the door and a nurse pops her head around it.

"The helicopter won't be here before six, Charlie, so just relax for the next few hours, okay?"

"Yes ma'am ," Charlie replies and salutes her like she's his commanding officer. She gives him a cheeky smile then disappears.

"Six!" Bella exclaims. "That's cutting it a bit fine," she says and then shuts-up.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asks. "Do you need to be somewhere?"

"No," I jump in. "When we find out where you're going, I'm going to drive Bella there and make sure she's got somewhere to stay. I'd like to book her in somewhere safe before nightfall."

"Where will _you_ be staying then, Edward?" he replies suspiciously.

"I probably won't hang around, Charlie. My family have gone to stay with our cousins in Alaska so I might go up there. I haven't made my mind up yet."

"Hmmmmm," he grumbles and I can see him slipping into the over-protective-father mode.

We hang about watching TV while waiting for the call to say the helicopter has arrived. Bella and I have to leave the room a couple of times while the doctors visit and while the nurse changes one of Charlie's dressings. At six o'clock nothing has happened so I wander down to the nurses' station to find out what's going on. I'm starting to feel nervous now, especially as I have even more of a feeling that when it comes to the crunch, Bella won't leave her father if it's getting close to eight o'clock and the helicopter hasn't turned up. At least we're on the ninth floor now and Charlie's room has a window, but I've no idea what equipment is on the roof directly above us that could come crashing through the ceiling if the hospital starts to collapse.

I ask a nurse to find out what's going on and she makes a call while I wait. I can hear both sides of the conversation and I'm relieved to hear the helicopter is already on its way from Portland, which is where he's being taken. I give the nurse the thumbs up and walk quickly back to the room to tell Charlie and Bella the good news. I suggest to Bella that we leave now but she shakes her head and I know there's no point arguing with her.

About twenty minutes later a doctor, a nurse and two porters come in to get Charlie ready for transfer. This takes another twenty minutes and I'm itching for Bella to kiss her dad goodbye and leave them to it, but she wants to go with him to the elevator which would take him up to the roof. By the time we've walked down the long corridor next to Charlie in his wheelchair it's nearly five to seven and I'm becoming frantic.

"See you in Portland," Bella says then gives him a lingering hug and a kiss and waits as he's wheeled into the elevator. As the doors are closing, Bella lets out a little whimper so I pull her in for a hug.

"Let's go," I say when we hear the elevator moving, then without waiting for a response I drag her along the corridor towards the stairs where I pick her up, fling her over my shoulder then race down eight flights of steps at vampire-speed. Bella is screaming by the time I get to the ground floor where I put her back on her feet and propel her towards the external doors.

As we run towards the car I can feel my cell phone vibrating in my pocket. I'm tempted not to answer it, but I guess it's probably Alice checking whether we're out of Seattle. I pull it out and hit the answer button without looking who's calling. But it isn't Alice. It's my worst nightmare.

 _"Easy, where are you? We're outside the club and there's no-one here. Mom's at work and she's not answering her phone. Easy, we're on our own!"_

* * *

 ** _Oh ... hell!_**

 ** _Somebody's mom didn't get the message!_**

 **Joan xx**


	28. Chapter 28

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI - CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

 **(This is a very long chapter, so make yourself comfortable)**

* * *

It's Carly; I recognized her voice as soon as she spoke. Carly is thirteen years-old and her brother, Luke, is either ten or eleven. From what I remember their mom is some sort of ambulance driver and often has to work late shifts, so they're dropped off and picked up either by her mom's friends or whoever is the current boyfriend. They weren't at the club on Friday so I'd presumed they'd already left town, but I'm _absolutely certain_ I sent their mom a text saying the club was closed until further notice. All the parents have my cell phone number so they could call me if there was a problem about collecting the kids on time, and I knew that some of the older kids, like Carly, have it too, which I've never had a problem with as occasionally I get texts from them about their school projects, which is always good fun.

"Carly, is it just you and Luke there?" I reply, trying not to sound too frantic as I don't want to frighten her.

"Yeah. Mom's friend Jan dropped us off as mom had to work tonight and she doesn't have a car. She won't be home 'til late so she's arranged for Tom to pick us up at nine. I don't have his number."

As Carly is talking I'm trying to work out whether I've enough time to get to them _and_ ensure Bella's safety. The club is out of our way, but at least Rainier Beach is south of here so we'd be going in the right direction to escape the flood. I make an instant decision that I hope I won't have cause to regret.

"Stay there, don't move; Bella and I are coming to get you. We'll be there in about twenty minutes, okay?"

"Okay, Easy ….. thanks," she replies cheerfully and hangs up.

I glance at Bella who's still outside the car and I know she's confused. "I'll tell you what's happened when we're moving," I say then signal for her to get in. As soon as she's got her seat belt on, I roar away from the hospital at top speed; my wheels spinning on the loose gravel as I pull out of the parking lot heading in the direction of Rainier Beach.

"Two kids are outside the art club," I explain as I tear down the street. "They're on their own so I can't leave them there. I'd be handing them a death sentence."

I hear Bella's intake of breath and I know I've shocked her but I can't just abandon them. I know it'll be tight, but I have to go for it.

Luckily I know the quickest route to get to the club from the hospital as Bella and I had driven it on Friday, plus the roads are virtually empty now, but it's the way going south I'm not absolutely certain of so I'll have to get Bella to figure out the best route using her phone.

"Where should we be heading for after we've picked the kids up?" she asks, obviously guessing my thoughts. I can tell by the tremble in her voice that she's frightened and this guts me.

"Look at Google Maps. We need to head south, inland, high-up, no overpasses, away from trees if possible; just do your best to find the safest and quickest way from the club."

While Bella was in the shower I'd assessed the southern routes for safety and they were still fresh in my mind, but I'd expected to be driving away from the city center; not Rainier Beach. I had a rough idea where we should be aiming for, but at least Bella concentrating on the map would divert her mind away from what was going to happen in an hour's time. I had to find the kids, then get as far away as possible from anywhere with tall buildings, _then_ find somewhere safe to ride out the quake itself, _then_ drive as fast as possible to outrun the tsunami. In my mind there was only one place that could offer us guaranteed safety, but whether we had time to get there was uncertain as the roads could be blocked by fallen trees and debris after the quake.

I race through the streets like I'm taking part in the Monaco Grand Prix. Every car and pedestrian I pass travelling in the opposite direction I want to scream at to tell them go find somewhere safe to be, but my priority now is to focus on saving Carly and Luke, and of course, Bella.

"Are we going to make it?" Bella stammers.

"I don't know," I answer honestly, "but I can't abandon them, just like you couldn't abandon your dad. They'll either be crushed by the quake or drowned by the flood if I leave them there. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try my hardest to save them. If it comes to a choice though, I'll save you first, I promise."

"Don't make those sorts of promises," Bella replies vehemently. "Their lives are just as important as mine. We don't know what's going to happen so let's just focus on saving all of us, okay?"

"Okay," I answer knowing she's right. Whatever happens in the next couple of hours will shape our future lives and our on-going relationship. However she knows I love her more than anyone on earth without having to say it or prove it.

I make the journey in less than twenty minutes so by the time Carly and Luke get in the car it's still before seven-thirty. I tell them to buckle-up and help themselves to any candy they can find in the back then tell them I have to be somewhere important so I'm going to drive very fast, but not to worry because I'm a good driver. Luke thinks this is "really cool"; Carly isn't that impressed.

"Head for the 167 first," Bella whispers. "It's south and the least built-up road to start with."

I nod in agreement as this is the way I would've chosen as the 169 goes through a lot of green areas on the map, which means trees. If we don't hit any hold-ups in the next half hour, by my calculation we should be quite a long way south when the quake hits and from what I remember, there aren't many trees along the stretch of highway that takes you towards Auburn.

I drive as fast as possible through the streets of Rainier Beach towards Renton where I pick up the 167. There are still some cars heading north towards Seattle and I silently weep for these people as they're possibly driving towards their doom. I truly hope this isn't the case but the chances are it is. When we're on the highway, I ask Carly if her mom got the text I sent last Friday saying the club was closed.

"She had her car stolen on Friday when she was unloading the shopping, which is why we weren't at the club," she replies nonchalantly. "Her purse and phone were in the car as well. We think our neighbor stole it so he could get out of town. Mom had an old phone that she's put a temporary sim card in, but she lost all her messages; sorry."

"Why are you still in the city though?" I ask. "Didn't your mom want to leave?"

"Yeah, but her boss said she couldn't go until after tonight's shift. She needs the money and worries about losing her job all the time. She's been evacuating patients from nursing homes and they're emptying the last one out tonight. Tom's picking us up in the morning but I don't know where we're going."

I tell her not to worry about it and concentrate on the road ahead as I'm doing eighty by now. I just pray that the bastard who stole her mom's car gets crushed to death or drowned as a punishment, but then when I think about it, the kids would probably have been at home on their own when the quake hits, so his actions may have inadvertently saved Carly and Luke's lives.

Once we're away from the city area the buildings either side of the highway become sparser and not so tall. I keep the speed up, hoping and praying the traffic police are occupied elsewhere so I don't get pulled over. The few cars on the road heading in our direction are not going anywhere near fast enough for me and I end up overtaking in places where I would never had dared before, especially with passengers in the car. Bella is watching the clock on her cell as the numbers are zipping towards eight o'clock and I can see the color draining from her face. When it gets to ten-to eight, she holds the phone up to show me, even though the clock on the dash is saying the same thing.

I turn off the 167 at the next opportunity as the last thing I want is to be stuck between junctions when the quake hits. There's bound to be car wrecks when it happens and the road surface might disintegrate below us which could trap us. I can't remember either whether there are any overpasses ahead on this highway so it's going to have to be local roads from now on.

From the turn-off we immediately find ourselves driving through a deserted industrial park and then a quiet residential area with a few local shops and a small gas station which all seem to be closed, but thankfully there are no buildings taller than three stories. It's a quiet Monday evening, the sun is low in the sky and the air is warm and still, but even though I don't know this area at all, my feeling is that it's _too_ quiet, _too_ still, which hopefully means that the majority of folks have already left town.

I start looking around for somewhere safe to pull over but there's nowhere I can drive into that isn't near a building or trees. I've read up on earthquakes over the last few months and I know it's not a good idea to stay inside a car as they can get swallowed up very quickly if the road collapses. The safest place to be is in a field or a park, but if the ground starts to liquefy, which can happen if the ground is already wet, we would have to find some thick concrete to stand on. If we then get stuck with no car after the quake, my only option then would be to find the sturdiest and tallest tree that's still standing, and take Bella and the kids up there and hopefully stay above the wave when it hits.

The kids have been very quiet in the back, almost like they can sense that something isn't right. They've munched their way through three or four candy bars each by now so it could be they're feeling sick of course but that's going to be the least of their problems in a few minutes time. It's almost eight when I see an ideal spot to stop and race towards it.

"We're just having a break for a while," I say as I swing into a parking area in front of a kids' sports field and playground. There's only one other car parked there, which is a very pricey looking black SUV stuffed full of luggage. I spot a young woman with two very small children on the baby-swings in the farthest corner of the field so I guess the car must be hers.

"It's eight o'clock," Bella whispers as I switch the engine off. I nod that I've heard her but I don't respond.

"Come on you two, out," I say in a cheerful voice. "Let's stretch our legs for a few minutes."

"Where do you need to be?" Carly asks as she clambers out clutching _another_ candy bar.

"I'm going to see a friend who lives on the mountain. There's a lovely view of Seattle from up there. When I'm done, Bella and I will take you home afterwards, so when we get back in the car text your mom and tell her you're with me and where we're going so she won't worry, okay?"

"Okay Easy," she says and gives me a broad smile. I can see in her eyes and hear in her thoughts that she trusts me and I instantly feel guilty for lying to her, even though I'm trying to save her life.

"Let's walk over to the swings," Bella suggests knowing full well we won't make it before the ground starts to move. She takes hold of Luke's hand then links her arm through mine as we set off while Carly skips on ahead across the grass. We've almost reached the middle of the field when we hear a low rumble coming from below our feet and then the ground starts to shake violently. Carly screams and runs back to Bella who flings her arms around both the kids then looks up at me for help.

I glance over at the mom, who by now is struggling to get her babies out of the swings but they're being tossed in the air and she can't catch them. The shaking is becoming more violent every second and the deep rumbling noise the earthquake is making is also increasing in volume and I can see she's having difficult staying upright.

"Lie flat on the ground," I shout at Bella who's already on her knees looking terrified. I run at vampire-speed over to the play area and seconds later I have the babies out of the swings and tucked under one arm, then I pull the mother away from the metal play equipment which is just about to be torn out of the concrete. I literally have to drag her into the middle of the field as she can't stand upright on the moving surface then drop the three of them on the ground. "Stay down," I yell at her and she flings herself on top of her children while I run back to Bella.

By now the ground is heaving and shaking and the noise emanating from the earth and from buildings collapsing around us is like a thundering landslide. I skid onto the ground next to Bella and pull her in close to me then gather the kids up and pull them into my other side. They're both screaming in terror by now as we can hear and see trees at the edge of the field cracking and breaking then crashing to the ground, then a high brick wall surrounding a house on the opposite side of the street crumbles into a heap of rubble, followed a few seconds later by the house and garage that folds in on itself in slow-motion, like a collapsing soufflé. The surface of the field is rolling by now and the sight of it reminds me of waves on the sea. We're being tossed up and down as each peak hits us, at the same time being showered by heavy clumps of earth, but I manage to cling on to Bella and the kids to prevent them from being dragged away from me.

The most violent tremors go on for well over two minutes but I'm well aware that every second between now and when the tsunami hits the coast is going to be precious. When the shaking begins to abate, I leap to my feet and I'm able to balance on the churning surface but I'm certain that Bella and the kids won't be able to stand yet. I run over to the woman with the babies and shout in her ear.

"As soon as you can, get back to your car and head for high ground. The tsunami will be following us soon so you've got to get inland as far as possible. Don't go home; just call your family from the car and tell them to get out and come after you."

She nods her head and tries to scoop her children up but the ground is still moving and shaking and is starting to turn into mud. I have no option but to pick both the babies up and tuck them under one arm then lift her as well and carry her across the churned up field back to her car.

"As soon as it's safe, drive as fast and as far as you can," I shout then I leave her clutching her children and rush back to Bella.

I gather the kids up, wedging one under each arm then run back to the Volvo and throw them on the back seat then return for Bella. By now the tremors aren't so violent and she's able to stand but I can see she can't move as she's in shock. I pick her up in my arms and run at vampire speed across a surface that is now resembling a slimy river.

As I get back to the car I check the state of the road before climbing in. By now the asphalt looks more like the top of a crusty loaf of bread. There are deep cracks running down the center of the road and the sidewalk edges are crumbling into dust. The ground is still moving because of the constant tremors but the surface is settling into its new shape and not buckling any further so at the moment it looks just about driveable.

I start the car and set off in the direction of Mount Rainier which is the safest place to head for but is still many miles away and I've no idea what obstacles are going to stand in the way of us getting to safety. Carly and Luke are hysterical by now and Bella is kneeling on her seat facing backwards trying to calm them down. "We're safe, we're safe," she keeps saying over and over to them, but we aren't safe by any stretch of the imagination. I'm confident that by now the killer wave is already gaining strength out in the ocean and will soon be heading our way at a frightening speed.

I hadn't expected the roads to be this badly affected when I made my assessment of how much time it would take us to get to high ground. The fastest I could drive on what is left of the broken surface is about twenty miles an hour as I have to avoid dangerous fissures, broken trees and sliding mud by mounting the sidewalks, or driving along the grass verges to avoid the worst obstacles. As I'm swerving out the way of every type of debris that's strewn across the road, as well as coping with being jolted up and down every second, I'm cursing my own stupidity for not borrowing Carlisle's Range Rover, as the tires on that beast would make light work of the majority of these obstacles. At least Emmett fitted the Volvo with a new set of tires a few days ago, which is solely due to the fact that I murdered Jacob with the previous set.

Everything around us is wrecked and the farmland we're passing has now blended into one huge landscape of undulating mud which reminds me of Mordor from The Lord of the Rings. After about ten minutes of slow but hair-raising driving, we reach the outskirts of Sumner, which on the sign says it's 75 feet above sea level. This is where I planned to join the 410 and head east, but I can tell by the direction that other cars are heading that the highway is not an option. I know some sections of the highway are elevated, so the chances are that these have collapsed by now. My only other option is to head across country towards Bonney Lake or Buckley which are both well over 150 feet, but I also know from my own experience of driving these routes there are dense patches of trees along these roads, which means there could be danger and delay between here and safety.

Sumner is totally destroyed with hardly any buildings left standing and as we drive around the edge of it, we watch a line of impressive looking houses slowly sliding down a gentle slope before crashing into others which have already settled at the base of the hill. I have to weave the car through rubble and uprooted shrubs and trees and change direction several times before I'm able to reach a road heading south-east out of town, but thankfully this road is just about passable as there are no buildings or trees either side of it. By now we're not the only cars trying to escape and everyone in front of us seems to be heading in the same direction. I tell Bella to turn the radio on even though the kids might hear something that will frighten them, but it's vital I know what's happening.

There's only one message being repeated over and over and on every channel.

 _'Evacuate'. The Cascadia Subduction Fault has shifted with devastating results. The coast is expecting the arrival of a tsunami within minutes. If you can't evacuate, get up to the top of a tall building or head for high ground of at least a hundred feet._

Luke has stopped crying by now and is staring out the window at the devastation. I can tap into his thoughts quite easily. He can't compute what's happening around him and my guess is his brain has gone into protective mode. Carly on the other hand is only worried about her mom and her friends, and is starting to think that maybe they haven't all survived. I know I have to say something to reassure her.

"Carly, send a text to your mom saying you're both okay, but don't worry if you don't get a response from her straight away. She may not have had her phone with her when the quake happened. At least when she gets to it she'll know you and Luke are fine."

Carly nods her head and starts trying to text but her hands are shaking so much she can't hit the right buttons. Bella takes the phone from her and finishes the text and presses send then hands it back to her. "Don't worry," she whispers. "Edward and I will look after you until we can get you back to your mom. We won't ever leave you; I promise."

"Who's Edward?" she asks and then she realizes I'm Edward and she smiles for the first time since the quake hit.

We're in a line of traffic that's not travelling anywhere near fast enough for me so I keep my eye open for any turn offs which could get us as far away from the coast as possible. The Pacific Ocean is miles away, but we're still close to Tacoma which is south of Vashon Island at the southern end of Puget Sound, which means that this area is going to be hit badly by flooding coming from two separate directions.

After about half a mile of driving much too slowly, I spot a left-turn ahead that everyone seems to be ignoring. I take an instant decision to leave the road we're on because from what I remember, it will have to pass through a heavily wooded area within the next mile. As I turn off and speed up, the sun is now behind us which means we'll definitely be heading east if I take this new route but it's still a massive risk as the road might just stop in the middle of farmland. I glance in the rear view mirror and spot that other cars are following us, including one a long way back that looks like the SUV from the playground, but I don't look again as I need to concentrate on what's ahead of us.

I put my foot down and pray that the raised road surface with farmland either side of it is passable and after a few minutes of driving at fifty, I spot some cars quite a long way ahead of me which I'm easily catching up. This, plus the fact that I can see further ahead than any human on the planet, gives me the confidence to drive even faster. Bella and the kids are silent as we tear through the flat, featureless countryside which is now covered by a layer of grey mud whereas before it would've been a lush green or gold, but both Bella and I know that within the next half hour this landscape will turn another color when it's consumed by the tsunami, and any life still hanging on there will be completely extinguished.

Up ahead I can see that the road is disappearing into a small forested area which could possibly spell danger but there's no opportunity to avoid it. As we head round a sharp bend and plunge into the trees we hit our first serious obstacle. A fair-size fir tree has fallen across the road about a hundred yards further up totally blocking both sides. I just manage to slam my brakes on in time to avoid hitting the car in front of us that's skidded to a halt but I can't help dropping the F-bomb in front of the kids. Two other cars in front have also just managed to stop and I hear every other car behind us screeching to a halt. I jump out onto the road and look ahead and see several other trees further along are down as well, so this road is impassable at least for the next quarter of a mile.

Bella calls up the map on her phone and starts looking for alternative routes. While she's doing this, the other cars are backing up and turning round to head in the opposite direction again. I wait until the coast is clear then tell Bella to jump into the driving seat.

"Why, what are you going to do?" she asks and then she realizes.

This isn't the time to worry about what the kids might see me doing, but I still double-check that no-one else is watching before doing a 'vampire-high' leap over the first tree, then grab hold of a sturdy branch and drag the tree to the side of the road. Its weight is nearly at the limit of my strength but I reckon this is the only way we're going to escape.

I run vampire fast up to the next tree which is much lighter and toss it to the side of the road quite easily then run at vampire-speed to the next. This one is much heavier and it takes all my strength just to clear a path wide enough for Bella to squeeze the car through.

By the time I've cleared the road we've lost at least fifteen minutes and we're still on a flat plain, which means we're nowhere near the elevation I want to reach to ensure our safety. I'm hoping we can at least get to Buckley which is several hundred feet above sea level, but I'm not confident at all now that we'll get anywhere close before the water overtakes us. If there are more trees blocking the roads ahead it's a certainty we won't make it.

I can tell by Bella's face that she's doing the math as well. While I was moving the trees she'd been using the internet to try and work out the topography for this area but was having no luck as only the larger towns on this road have their elevations listed on Wikipedia. As I jump into the passenger seat I tell her not to worry, but she and I know my words are empty. I look down at my own phone and try to connect to the internet, but there's nothing now, which means that the telecommunications masts serving this area have probably either toppled over or are now under the flood.

I check the time on the dash and it's already eight thirty-five. By now the wave will have hit Seattle, and what is left of Carlisle and Esme's house could be under a hundred feet of water. If Carly and Luke's mom survived the quake, but hasn't been able to get to a tall building that's still standing, the chances are she and everyone else in the city in a similar situation will be dead by now. I look behind me and Carly has her arms around her brother and their wide-eyes speak volumes. I don't need to tap into their thoughts to know what they're thinking.

I have no idea where we are as the Volvo doesn't have a Satnav. We haven't passed any road signs for the past mile either but I can see one up ahead. As we draw closer to it, a herd of terrified deer run across the road in front of us and Bella just avoids hitting the ones bringing up the rear by swerving out of the way.

"What does that sign say," Bella shrieks as she accelerates towards it. This part of the road is unbuckled and seems to be clear of trees and other debris but she's still taking a risk driving so fast. As we approach the sign I can see it says, 'Mount Rainier National Park Ahead', which is stating the flaming obvious because in the distance to our right, the snowy top of the volcano is clearly visible.

I look in the rear view mirror and notice for the first time there's a car following us and realize it's the same make and model as the mom's car from the playground, so she must have decided not to go back to the main road and follow us instead. I wonder then whether she's worked out that I'm some sort of superman, as I didn't bother hiding my vampire speed and agility running back and forth across the park and I presume she saw me moving the trees on my own. I take a guess that she's decided to stick with us, which is logical in the circumstances, because if anyone can save her from this situation it's probably me. She's a few hundred yards behind us and travelling dangerously fast, and when I look further into the distance I can see why.

The land behind us is rapidly changing color and as I watch it I know I'm seeing the water for the first time. I can't stop myself from saying "shit" out loud and regret it instantly. I see Bella glance in the mirror and her face freezes but she doesn't say anything; she just floors the gas pedal again and fixes her gaze on the road ahead. We have to throw caution to the wind and just hope and pray there are no other major obstacles in our path as this would be the end of our bid to escape.

The Volvo's engine is screaming by now as Bella pushes it to its limit. If there any obscured obstacles or fissures on the road ahead we definitely wouldn't be able to stop in time but we have no other option now. There's nothing I can do but ask God for help, who probably isn't my best friend considering all the commandments I've broken during the first five hundred years of my vampire existence. My own life isn't in danger, but I'm with three mortal humans that I care for now and this is a new experience for me, so I just pray for their deliverance.

I can tell from the angle of the trees that we've started to head uphill at last, and as we reach the point on the brow where for a few seconds we can't see the road ahead, straight in front of us appears the iconic view of Mount Rainier in all her glory, filling the distant horizon with her brooding magnificence. But there are still many miles between us and the un-wooded scree below the snowline which would've given us refuge, so my plan to take Bella up there and ride out the disaster in safety is now an unattainable goal.

After flattening out at the top of the hill, the road ahead dips steeply down like a roller coaster then up again, so we tear down the slope then start the ascent of the next much longer and steeper hill. I throw my arms up in the air to make it seem like a game to the kids and shout "Wheeeeeee" as we zoom down the slope. They follow suit and are laughing at me for being silly, totally oblivious to the fact that the killer wave is right behind us and gaining on us rapidly.

I look out the back window again pretending to laugh at the kids but mainly to check that the SUV is still following. As it plunges down into the dip then begins ascending behind us, the flood water appears on the brow of the hill and starts spilling over the top like a bubbling waterfall.

"Faster," I urge Bella even though I know she's doing her best, but I can't drag my eyes away from the drama unfolding behind us and I watch with horror as the dip rapidly fills with a tumbling cascade that carries with it tons of lethal debris. The churning surface is almost touching the other car as it races up behind us and I can easily see the look of terror on the mother's face as she attempts to outrun the murderous flood.

The hill we're climbing is never ending and the sparkling white summit of Rainier is filling more and more of our forward view. Trees and rough scrubland either side of the road offers no means of escape as I can see the water rushing over the surface, filling every ditch and hollow; crushing and consuming everything in its path. I can imagine the devastation it's causing on the heavily populated area and rich farmland we've just driven through, never mind the tragic loss of life, both human and animal, but I can't dwell on this for the moment.

As we approach the top of the hill I'm expecting another deep dip on the other side which would be deadly, but the road flattens out for a few hundred yards then rises again in a much gentler gradient.

"Edward, she's gone," Bella shrieks as we can't see the car behind us. A few of the longest seconds of my life follow then the mom's car tops the hill and I can see the look of terror is still in her eyes, but it instantly turns into a look of relief as she races up close behind us and I realize why her facial expression has changed. The water isn't following her anymore, and the thrill of realising we've managed to outrun the reach of the tsunami causes me to shout out loud for joy. Even with the mighty force and energy produced by the quake, it couldn't push the water to ascend any further and higher, and as I look at Bella's eyes filling up with tears of relief, a powerful wave of emotion overwhelms me.

After allowing ourselves a few seconds of pure elation, both of us know it isn't the time for jumping for joy as we're not out of danger yet. Looking ahead there are sections of the road where we'll be completely surrounded by trees again, some of which are huge and could crash into our path without warning. Every few minutes there's another tremor and each time this happens when we're amongst the trees we hold our breaths until the shaking abates and we're back in open countryside again. Bella has slowed the car down now but her face is showing the strain from trying to hold it together. Her knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel and her eyes are fixed on the road ahead and I can tell by the fact that she's not speaking to me or the children that she's traumatized. I want to tell her how proud I am of her, but now isn't the time.

We've been travelling uphill for what seems like miles but neither of us knows where we are. Some stretches of the road are untouched by the quake but other parts are treacherous and we have to pick our way around mini-landslides and more felled trees that I have to drag out of the way. We finally reach a junction where we see a signpost pointing left for Buckley. This one says that the current elevation is 575 feet above sea level which means it will be totally safe for us to head in that direction. After about another mile of driving up and downhill on a straight and featureless road where occasionally on our left-hand side we can see glimpses of the edge of the flooding glinting under the setting sun, the scrub and trees end abruptly and we're back in a land where there are houses and local stores and apartment blocks and gas stations and, most of all, safety.

It's plain to see that the major quake has reached this far inland as Buckley is a mess of broken buildings and rubble everywhere, but at first glance the damage to the town seems minimal compared to what we've driven through on our journey. Folks are out on the street and standing well away from the buildings, but I can easily read their thoughts as we drive slowly through their wrecked community. They're not in fear of the flood or the tremors; they're more worried that the quake will set off a volcanic eruption as the town is directly in Mount Rainier's line of fire.

As we drive along the rubble-strewn main street we feel another tremor starting but this one only lasts a few seconds. Without any sort of discussion, Bella pulls into a parking lot in front of an undamaged McDonalds and promptly bursts into tears.

I undo her belt, pull her out of her seat and onto my lap and hold her while she sobs. We were seconds away from disaster, and she knew it, and even though she held her nerve while she was driving, she's completely traumatized. The kids are silent in the back while Bella weeps but thankfully they have no idea that the water was so close and I wasn't going to mention it. Ignorance for them in this case is definitely bliss.

Bella is just starting to calm down when I hear a knock on the car window. It's the mom from the playground. She's obviously been crying too but I'm amazed that firstly she's able to stand up, and secondly, that she's able to speak coherently. She'd been much closer to death than us and she _definitely_ knew it.

"Thank you for saving us," she sobs as I open the door and swing my legs out. "My twins would be dead if it wasn't for you. I want to give you a hug."

"Consider it given," I reply and indicate that Bella sitting on my lap is my excuse why I can't reciprocate. I can read her thoughts easily though and she'd worked out that she'd definitely been saved by some kind of superman as an image of me running at vampire speed is in her mind. She'd also witnessed me moving the trees by myself so in her case, the cat is definitely out of the bag. However I don't want her to be able to enhance that theory by allowing her to touch my body again while she's thinking straight. I know I don't have to worry about her telling anybody else about my 'alleged' superhuman abilities though, as anyone she told her story to would automatically presume this poor lady is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

"Are you and the kids okay?" I ask.

"We're fine, and my husband's fine. He's been working abroad and couldn't get a flight back before today. He got into Portland late this afternoon and told me not to wait for him but to leave straight away, so I took the kids to the park to tire them out before the journey. I've just spoken to him and told him you saved us. He wants to meet you to thank you himself."

"If I ever come back this way that would be great," I reply while trying to rapidly think of a reason why this _wasn't_ such a good idea. "My wife and I will be travelling to Alaska soon so it'll be a while before I'm back this way again. Look, just tell your husband that I know he would've done the same for me and my family if he was in the same situation. I'm glad I was able to help."

Bella raises her head off my shoulder and turns to her. "Is Portland okay? Was it damaged by the quake?"

"The city definitely felt it really bad and there's been a huge amount of damage to the airport and a lot of the older buildings, but my husband said that most of the newer buildings are absolutely fine. The water had just reached the city when I spoke to him, but it's nothing compared to Seattle and folks had time to get up high. I'm driving out there as soon as the traffic cops give me the all clear as I need to get to my husband before the PTSD kicks in, which I'm sure it will very soon." She laughs at her own joke but I wouldn't be surprised if she was in therapy for a very long time.

We say our goodbyes and as Bella rests her head on my chest again I feel one of the kids tapping me on my shoulder. It's Luke.

"Easy?" he says in a questioning tone of voice.

"Yes, Luke."

"How did you manage to pull those trees away all by yourself?"

"I had an adrenalin rush, Luke," I answer sagely. "It's on the internet; you can Google it."

Bella grins at me but Luke isn't finished yet.

"Easy?"

"Yes, Luke"

"Is Bella _really_ your wife? You only met her last Monday."

"Well, Luke, she will be my wife one day soon. Well I hope she'll be."

Bella is now blushing, which considering she was white as a sheet a few minutes ago is a miracle.

"Easy," he says again, but this time in the tone of voice where I guess he's going to ask me a favor.

"Yes, Luke."

"Can we have McDonalds?"

* * *

While Bella takes the kids into McDonalds, which incredibly is fully operational as though nothing untoward has occurred, I check my phone and thankfully it's working here so I call Alice to let her know we're okay and to double-check there's no danger of Rainier exploding in the next twenty-four hours, which she's happy to tell me that no, there isn't. There's no point telling her what just happened to us; I'll leave our story for another day. Bella manages to get through to the hospital in Portland while she's in McDonalds and asks them to tell her dad that she's fine and would visit as soon as she was able to but couldn't say when.

I turn on the car radio but there's no information other than what I'd already guessed, which was that the earthquake and tsunami were currently devastating huge parts of Washington State, Oregon, Vancouver and some of the Alaskan islands. The quake was felt as far south as Los Angeles and north into the depths of Alaska and inland in Montana and Idaho. Many iconic buildings in Seattle had been flattened and only the highest points in the city remained above the flood line, but already the water was receding slowly and the emergency services were moving in to rescue anyone who's trapped. No mention was made of casualties, but much praise was already being heaped on the scientists at the University who through the Mayor had accurately predicted the quake, which had definitely saved many thousands of lives.

My priority for when the McDonalds treat is over is to have somewhere safe for Bella and the kids to stay overnight as it's already started to get dark and the one-man tent in the trunk certainly wouldn't accommodate three. I know Mount Rainier National Park well as it's one of the family's favorite hunting grounds and I recall seeing camp sites and lodges dotted among the trees. I know I could easily break into one of the log cabins, but this isn't an option with the kids around. I check my phone and easily pick up the free McDonalds Wi-Fi, so I trawl the Rainier National Park website to find some information about renting somewhere nearby. By the time Bella and the kids appear again suitably fed and watered, I've booked us in to the only lodge still available in the park which, clear roads permitting, is about half an hour's drive from where we are now.

"What next?" Bella asks as she puts her seat belt on. I show her the booking reference which had just popped up on my phone and she nearly starts crying again. She leans over and gives me a kiss on the side of my face. "Let's get out of here," she says and I'm happy to oblige.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Bella and I are sitting on the stoop outside our very well-appointed log cabin. I'm guessing it's probably the best and most expensive one in the park, which is probably why it was still available. I don't mind the expense though. We both needed to stop and reflect on what had happened, and having luxurious surroundings will definitely aid the healing process.

Carly is being very mature about the situation and has already accepted there's a strong chance her mom hasn't survived the quake. I told her not to give up hope yet as miracles really do happen. She just shrugged her shoulders when I said this and helped Luke get ready for bed. I believe she's actually suffering from shock and reality hasn't kicked in yet, so at some point in the next few days I'm expecting her to crash. Luckily her cell phone has the same power cable as Bella's, so I'll try to keep hers fully charged once we start travelling just in case her mom or anyone she knows calls. It had already gone ten by the time we got in the cabin and no communication had been received by then which is a strong indication that the worst has probably happened, unless of course her mom couldn't get a signal anywhere.

The kids go to bed without argument and are asleep within minutes. They're both mentally exhausted, which isn't surprising considering what they've been through, and as Bella and I close their bedroom door I hope they'll never experience anything as traumatic again in their lives. If their mother hasn't survived, that will obviously be a different type of trauma and one I can't help them with.

When we arrived at the cabin it was already dark, but there was still just enough light to realise that the cabin would have an incredible view of Elliott Bay in the morning. I could just make out the black edges of Vashon and Bainbridge Islands and further west towards the Olympic National Park and beyond. It's completely dark now, and the only light illuminating the landscape is from the almost-full moon that's reflecting off the water. Where there would normally have been twinkling lights dotted along the islands' pretty coastlines, their shores are now black and desolate. Even my superhuman eyesight can't see any sign of life on any of the islands or anywhere else in the bay.

We can't see much of what is left of Seattle either because it too is in almost total darkness. Helicopters are hovering above the city and we can see their searchlights jumping from building to building, no doubt looking for survivors so they could winch them to safety. They'll probably work long into the night or until they're satisfied there's no-one left to rescue. I try to see whether I can spot whether the Space Needle has survived but it's too dark to make anything out. We'll know more in the morning light.

I reach over and rub Bella's hand that's resting on the arm of her chair. She's deep in thought; no doubt going over the events of the day which is understandable. I know she's had no luck reaching Mike or Sue, but the chances are they're probably too busy coping with whatever has befallen Forks to worry about her, or, more likely, the telecommunication masts close to Forks have been destroyed by the quake and the flood. She said she'll try them again in the morning and will keep trying until she eventually gets through to someone.

But what to do now; that was the next question.

I have to think about the future; mine and Bella's future that is. Charlie is on the road to recovery so Bella will soon be a free agent again. She won't have a job anymore, that's blindingly obvious, so there's nothing keeping her in Seattle now. I've already decided I can't live without her, but is she ready to commit herself to me? Vampires aren't supposed to cohabit with humans because of our secrecy laws, so will she be willing to become a vampire in the future and stay with me for eternity?

Bella smiles at me, then looks up at the few stars that are twinkling in the bright moonlit sky above.

"I've been thinking about something you said a couple of nights ago."

"Really; what's that?" I reply as I rapidly try to recall our recent conversations.

"I've worked it out."

"Worked what out?"

"Who you were referring to."

It takes me a few seconds to remember what I told her to guess when we were in bed together and I sigh at the memory. It was this sort of situation that made me so grateful that I wasn't able to read her mind as I would have pre-empted what she was going to say and the magic would've been lost.

"So who do you think it was then?"

"Well, it could only have been one man, couldn't it? The supreme lover; Casanova."

I throw back my head and laugh. She's right of course. I'd spent many days and nights in the company of this infamous lothario and learned some valuable lessons from him, not just for the ladies benefit but for mine as well. Much as I would've liked to show Bella another trick tonight, it wasn't right with the kids sleeping in the cabin.

"Come here," I say and pull her onto my lap then bury my face in her glorious newly-washed hair that's hanging loose over her shoulders. "Casanova was a rascal, Bella, but I'm a one-girl-guy now; my roaming days are over."

"One-girl-vampire you mean," she jokes then kisses me on my nose and snuggles up against my chest.

We'd been to hell and back today, but Bella turning her mind towards the silly challenge I'd set her is evidence she's able to focus on something other than the horror of the quake and the tsunami that followed and I know she'll have the strength to put this behind her. It will take a while, but I'll be there to support her however long it takes.

As I hold her in my arms, I think back to that fateful night when I took the boat out into Elliott Bay so I could come to terms with what I'd just learned from reading Alice's mind, and then to decide what to do about it. My prime objective had been to save the kids in my art club, and hopefully as many other souls as a bonus. What I hadn't expected to happen was because of my decision to put my own life on the line to save others, this had led to someone else being saved, and that someone else was me.

My altruistic and risky venture had led me to discover what had always been missing from my life. I'd lived for six-hundred and thirty-three years without realizing that the only thing that could make me whole was to be truly in love with someone, and that someone was Bella Swan. As long as I had her, I'd have a bona fide reason to exist, and having her would mean that I could kiss goodbye to those long periods of depression which had blighted my life over the centuries. Through me wanting to save those kids, I'd finally found the one person who could save me, and now she's curled up on my lap, almost like a child herself.

As the moon disappears behind the clouds and the helicopters dim their lights and give up their search, Bella yawns and stretches.

"Time to dream," she whispers then shuffles off my lap and wanders into the cabin. I watch her while she goes towards the bathroom to brush her teeth and my eyes follow her until she closes the door.

One day, hopefully not too far in the future, dreaming will be a distant memory for Bella, like it is for Esme, but until she takes the decision to change and become like me, I can lie next to her every night watching over her, content in the knowledge that in October 2016, on a lonely boat bobbing in the sea, somewhere between Bainbridge Island and Seattle, Eduardo Antonio Masinelli, originally of Assisi, Italy, had _somehow_ made an awesomely inspired decision.

 ** _The End_**

* * *

 **(But there is a 'tying up all the loose-ends' Epilogue to Follow)**

* * *

 **You can breathe out now.**

 **I know you're going to be cross with me for ending it there, but I don't like to drag a story out. The Epilogue will answer all your questions (I hope) about whether Bella takes the plunge, does Charlie start howling at the moon, were there vampires in the forests, does Carlisle smile occasionally? You'll also find out a bit more about Edward's history.**

 **Whatever, I hope you enjoyed the great escape?**

 **Joan xx**


	29. Chapter 29

**MYSTERIOUS GRAFFITI**

 **THE EPILOGUE**

* * *

 **April, 2028**

 **Bella**

During the thirty-two and a half years I've been living on this planet, I've been able to travel to many different countries to feed my passion for art. But if I was told I could only ever visit one country again before I die, my destination of choice, without hesitation, would always be Italy.

I've relished every second I've been able to wander around her magnificent galleries and I've fallen in love with her cities, like Florence, Rome, Venice and Milan. In fact I've visited every major city and many of the smaller towns in this wonderful country, some many times. But my favorite place, not just in Italy but in the whole wide world, is where I'm sitting right now, which is on a rickety wooden chair next to an equally rickety table, on a flagstone sidewalk outside a tiny bistro, from where I can see the creamy-white and terracotta facade of the stunningly beautiful Basilica of St Francis of Assisi, standing out proudly against a brilliantly bright Mediterranean-blue sky.

I'd first fallen in love with this small town in the Italian region of Umbria in May of 2018, which incredibly is almost ten years ago now. It wasn't the art, or the world-famous Basilica, or even its ancient buildings and quiet, narrow streets that coerced me into falling in love with this place. Assisi had something I hadn't found anywhere else on the planet before or since, which was a serene ambiance, a gentle atmosphere and a soft and soothing warmth. Most people nowadays would call this Assisi's 'vibe', but to me this is totally the wrong type of word to use when describing anything to do with the character of this ancient town. Assisi had grace, beauty, calmness and joy permeating from the very stones the city was built from, and no modern word could ever encapsulate what this city had to offer. It had everything I needed then, and ten years later still has everything I need right now.

Assisi is where Edward was born six hundred and forty-four years ago. He brought me here for the first time a year after the earthquake, as he thought, quite rightly, the serenity and tranquillity Assisi had to offer its visitors would do me good. Before I agreed to travel, I explained to Edward that I hadn't got a religious bone in my body, but he persuaded me that Assisi wasn't solely about the Catholic religion; it had something else at its heart which was palpable if you were inclined to let it in.

Early on the first morning after we arrived, Edward, (or Eduardo as he's known here), guided me through the silent streets which were as familiar to him then as they were when he was a boy. We set off just as the sun was rising and before the daily tourist invasion commenced, so I could take in the beauty of this place as it was meant to be seen, and absorb its tranquillity as it should be felt. I didn't realize I'd been suffering from stress until I walked along the ancient pathways in the soft morning light; soaking up the beauty and history which was all around me. I actually felt the weight of my father's diagnosis and recovery, and the tragedy of the earthquake and what followed, gradually slipping away from my shoulders as Edward and I wandered back in time. If Assisi was full of holy or otherwise spirits, they were at peace, as I was after just a few days of being in receipt of its healing powers.

During our stay we went out into the glorious rolling countryside and Edward showed me the farm where he was born and told me stories about his family. The Masinellis still owned the farm which had been handed down from father to son since the 1300's, and when Edward introduced himself at the farmhouse door he was greeted with a cautious but genuine welcome. I caught on immediately that the family knew who and what he was, and when they realized I was human, which was when I asked to use the bathroom, their faces were a picture of incredulity.

I was amazed when I learned from Edward that small pockets of the Italian population were aware of the existence of vampires and they tolerated their presence, even with the knowledge that some of them still fed on humans. Edward explained to me after we left the farm that only nomad vampires were considered to be dangerous in Italy and they kept well away from vampires with permanent homes. Also the 'settled' vampires very rarely attacked near to where they lived so as not to draw attention to themselves, so if you had vampires living nearby this was considered to be lucky.

When we were ushered into the farmhouse's rustic living room to meet the family, in a dim corner next to other family portraits was one of Edward's father, Carlo Masinelli, with Edward's mother, which Edward had painted in the year 1402. I could easily spot the family resemblance, especially in Carlo's eyes. Edward had already told me his father was originally from the Italian speaking part of what is now Switzerland, which is why Edward is tall for someone born at that time.

In about 1370, Carlo left his home in the north to make his fortune in Rome. On the journey he met Edward's mother who was struggling to manage the farm on her own after losing all her relatives to a virulent disease, which was probably something like the Plague. Carlo abandoned his journey and took over the farm and they made their living growing olives and grapes and kept sheep and goats. But Carlo was skilled in other ways. He was an artist, and Eduardo and his brothers also became artists and sculptors as well as farmers.

When Carlo realized his youngest son, Eduardo, had an exceptional skill, he encouraged him to travel to Rome to perfect his craft as he hoped one day he would bring riches to the family. Edward had already told me of the day when the whole family, apart from one brother who stayed at home to look after the farm, were attacked by vampires from Volterra which was roughly 150 miles away, and the journey to take him to Rome had been the one the family was embarking on. Edward didn't make it to that great city until many years later and by then the Renaissance was in full swing.

When Edward left Volterra after his captor had tired of him, he traveled to Florence where, after a short time as a student, he established himself as a teacher in Ghirlandaio's workshop. Edward then had the opportunity to work with some of the finest artists ever to walk on the face of the earth, but because of his situation, he couldn't join the ranks of the most famous painters as it was forbidden for vampires to draw attention to themselves. He didn't need much money to survive he'd explained, but he acknowledged, without being boastful, that his name could have been up there with the greats if he'd taken the risk to defy Aro and become well known. However he wasn't bitter about this, as in his opinion fame was and still is a condition to be avoided at all costs.

He worked on the Sistine Chapel with Michelangelo, Ghirlandaio and others, and when we visited the Vatican a few years ago, he pointed out the parts he had painted. But Florence was where we always strayed back to, as the majority of Edward's most vivid memories were from when he lived and worked in this glorious city. We went together to the Galleria dell'Accademia to see the statue of David, and even though I knew from my studies about how and when it was created, I loved hearing from Edward the story of Michelangelo's successful attempt to keep a fourteen-foot marble sculpture secret from the world until it was complete, and then the reaction of the members of the Vestry Board who had commissioned the work when they were finally allowed to see it. He also loved relating the response of his and Michelangelo's peers in the art world, who declared to Michelangelo that the sculpture was too perfect to be placed high up in a cathedral; stating it should be displayed in a public piazza so it could be seen by everyone at eye-level. This information was already recorded in history books, but to hear it from the person who was the model for the original wax figure Michelangelo worked from was mind-blowing, as Edward's memory of this time was so vivid.

Over the past eleven years Edward has happily fed my craving for knowledge about his life in Europe, but I know we've only scratched the surface of the stories he could tell about the artists he'd worked with and everything he'd experienced. He did tell me though that other than me, Michelangelo was the only human outside his family who knew for definite he was a vampire, even though many other people, like Ghirlandaio and Da Vinci, suspected it. Edward told me he offered several times to change Michelangelo, but he declined for religious reasons. Michelangelo genuinely believed he'd been shown a vision of heaven in his dreams before he started work in the Vatican, and from this vision he'd produced the sublime images he painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Even when Michelangelo was dying, Edward said Michelangelo wasn't prepared to risk his chance of eternity with God in exchange for a different type of eternity on Earth. It's stories like this that keep us talking all night long sometimes, but knowledge is like a drug to me; I always want more.

It's now ten years since my first visit to Assisi and we've returned for a number of reasons; one of which is that I'm hoping Assisi's healing properties will help me recover from my latest trauma, but more of that later. Looking back to the events of 2017 and 2018, I still can't believe how smoothly I morphed from being someone with zero responsibilities to the person I was obliged by circumstances to become practically overnight. It was a crazy time, a tragic time and also a good time, but I know I wouldn't have been able to cope with the majority of what happened after the quake without the help of Edward, my dad and Edward's family.

After the disaster, my first priority was to ensure Charlie was okay in Portland, which thankfully he was, and then to begin the search for Carly and Luke's mother who was their only blood relative. Neither of the children knew their different fathers and the majority of numbers stored on Carly's phone were just girlfriends from school. Calling their mother's number proved fruitless, and after a few days we gave up trying and handed her details over to the police and the organisation which had been set up to trace missing persons and the families of the injured or homeless. The authorities were swamped due to the chaos, so I offered to be Carly and Luke's temporary guardian so they wouldn't be put in foster care while the search continued. As I was the daughter of a Chief of Police and had been employed by the city authorities, so had already gone through basic security and background checks, my proposal was accepted gratefully and without question even though I wasn't even twenty-two at the time.

When the search was abandoned about two months later and their mother was declared 'presumed dead,' Carly and Luke begged to stay with Edward and me rather than go to live with strangers as foster children. Neither Edward nor I could say no, so after my application was accepted to become their legal guardian with Charlie as a back-up, (we kept Edward out of the loop), Edward and I had two children to look after which was a bit of a shock. I thought about taking them to Forks, but Edward explained that a vampire living within spitting distance of the Quileute's wasn't such a good idea.

Forks had been very badly damaged by the quake, which was mainly due to poor construction practices and trees falling on properties, including my old High School which had been totally demolished. Many houses and business in the lower-lying parts had also been swamped by the flood then pummelled to bits by debris pushed uphill by the water. Our house had just about survived but still needed extensive repairs before Charlie was able to live in it again. People I knew had been killed in the quake or had just disappeared, but compared to some places on the coast, like the vast majority of Port Angeles and the whole of Sekiu, where both had quite literally dropped into the ocean and vanished from the map, Forks had got away lightly.

Mike and Jess survived unscathed along with Mike's parents and quite a few of their friends and neighbors. He'd convinced them to attend an impromptu barbeque and baseball game on the football field and they were all gathered together just as the earthquake struck. Some of them were hurt when the bleachers collapsed, but their injuries were minimal compared with others who were caught in their houses. Mike and Jess got married a year later then immediately went backpacking around the world, only coming back very reluctantly when Jess found out she was pregnant. They now have three kids, a large mortgage and are blissfully happy living in Oregon.

Sue and her family survived intact too. Their sturdily built home was only slightly damaged by the quake and totally untouched by the water, so when Charlie was officially discharged from the hospital in Portland, he moved in with them until his house was habitable which took the pressure off me. I'd lost touch with Billy for quite a few days after the quake and was worried for him and all the other folks on the reservation which was lower-lying than the town. When he finally contacted me, he told me the Quileute's had noticed the animals in the forest getting "real twitchy" as he put it on the morning of the quake, so the whole community had moved to high ground and rode out the disaster in a safe place. I smiled when I heard this, as countries such as the USA, spend millions of dollars on developing early-warning systems, when all they had to do was take note of what animals were reacting to instead. Nature is awesome.

The lower-lying areas of Seattle and the mega-expensive real estate on the islands in Puget Sound were completely demolished, with only the newly-built 'earthquake-proof' buildings left standing, and to this day no-one knows how many people lost their lives. The receding water took many bodies out to sea, including tourists and temporary visitors, however the authorities reckoned at the time that the final death toll would be in the single-figure thousands in the whole area affected by the quake and the flood, including Canada and Oregon, which was a fraction of what could have happened without the warning. Vancouver was badly damaged by the quake but fared much better for water damage than Seattle as Vancouver Island took the brunt of the wave. By the time it crashed into the city, most of its power had been lost and the damage was much less severe. The wave went in the opposite direction as well, and a day later hit Japan, parts of Russia and China and as far down as North and South Korea, but at least they knew it was coming and it had lost a lot of its power by then. It was still devastating, but the loss of life compared to North America was minimal.

Amazingly the Space Needle and the hospital survived and initially, so did the Municipal Tower, but the Tower was badly damaged a few weeks later when the Columbia Center next to it collapsed when the hill underneath it gave way. After being checked over by surveyors, the Tower was deemed to be structurally unsound and eventually had to be demolished and rebuilt.

After the quake, the Mayor had been 'trapped' in the Tower for a while, even though he could've been rescued by helicopter from the roof. He milked the situation for all it was worth, and when he emerged in the full glare of live TV cameras and flashbulbs, clambering over the top of the rubble and covered in no-doubt self-inflicted dust, he was lauded as a hero as he'd behaved like a captain refusing to leave a sinking ship. One good thing though was that the city continued to pay my salary for a whole year, which was the length of my initial contract, so that unexpected bonus helped enormously with dad's medical bills. Jasper continued to get paid as well until he voluntarily resigned, and I think it was the city's quiet way of saying thank you to both of us for what we'd done.

The seismologists from the University were also declared 'national heroes', which was a bit unfortunate really as they then had to explain how they managed to predict with such accuracy when the earthquake was going to happen. Also, and even more embarrassingly, other scientific centers of excellence dotted around the Pacific Rim, were anxious to learn more about their 'state-of-the-art' equipment which the Mayor had been gushing about in his statements to the press and politicians, which of course didn't exist. Awkward! Fortunately for Edward though, his murals were never mentioned in the national media, however I did hear a rumor much later, via Jim, that Alice's predictions were common knowledge among the higher echelons of government, but the information was deemed to be Top Secret, probably along the same lines of the secrecy surrounding Roswell and Area 51 which wasn't surprising.

The Mayor ended up becoming the Governor a few years later but I never met him again. I did however meet up with Jim, who re-located to Denver and settled there. We only stay in touch once a year at Christmas now, but he still hasn't wheedled out of me how I was so certain the quake was going to happen when it did and he never will. I stay in touch with Kirsty as well who finally made it to Scotland last year on her honeymoon but hated it because it was too cold and wet. She's now living in Florida so has to put up with tourists, hurricanes and alligators, but she says she prefers them to earthquakes and tsunamis.

Edward managed to contact every one of the kids from the club by text and all of them had survived. When he finally got hold of the last family, which was about two weeks after the quake, I could see he was as close to tears as any vampire could ever be. He'd risked his life for these children, so knowing they'd all managed to escape and were safe was more justification he'd done the right thing. After this it was just a waiting game to see whether Aro had picked up anything suspicious which needed investigating, but as nothing was mentioned in the national press or on TV about the strange murals, we had every reason to hope Aro would remain none the wiser.

We found out as well why Jake and a couple of the other lads on the Reservation had started shifting into werewolves, but it wasn't Aro's spies who had caused it. As Edward had originally suspected it was nomads. A small group of vampires from northern Russia had crossed the Arctic and Canada and were roaming through British Columbia and the Olympic Peninsula. Their intention was to track down Carlisle's family who they'd heard were in the area somewhere, and ask them to join their planned takeover of Volterra. They were sick of Aro and his arbitrary rules so were gathering together an army to overthrow the self-anointed King of Volterra.

After the earthquake and the flood, which the group survived, they gave up their search and wandered north to return home but decided to visit the Denali's estate in Alaska on the way. There they unexpectedly came across Carlisle and the rest of the family, who told them in no uncertain terms they wanted absolutely nothing to do with their plans, after which they were sent on their way.

The Russians didn't give up though, and in December of last year their army managed to infiltrate Volterra, following which there was an all-out war. Aro and most of his supporters were killed, but the Russians were killed too leaving a void in the vampire hierarchy. In February of this year, a new family of rulers was invited to take over and almost immediately after accepting their roles, they relaxed some of the restrictions; the most important one being I don't have to be dying to be changed into a vampire. This has made my decision to change so much easier to take as even though Alice and Jasper had already taken the risk, I didn't want Edward to step over the line again and defy his rulers. He'd already got away with warning the city of the disaster and also had taken a chance returning to Italy with me on several occasions hoping Aro wouldn't find out, but changing me into a vampire would be pushing his luck.

Jasper had stayed human for quite a while as his initial enthusiasm to be changed immediately had waned when he thought about the implications. There was no rush for him to do it and Alice wasn't pressuring him either. He had been accepted into the family with open arms but preferred not to live in the communal house when it was rebuilt as he thought it was weird that everyone lived together. Eventually Alice bought some land and had a house built in a dark spot overlooking the Sound so she could keep gazing at the stars at night, and also for privacy. When Jasper finally took the plunge and changed just over a year ago, he stayed out of sight until he felt he would be totally okay amongst humans. I kept in touch with him via Skype, which was good for me as he told me day by day exactly what I'd be facing when I decided to jump into the vampire world.

Going back to what happened after the quake, we stayed in the lodge on the side of Mount Rainier for just over a week waiting for the 'all clear' to travel, then the four of us spent some time in Portland in a rented house so I could be near to Charlie while he convalesced. While we were there, Edward and I took the decision to settle in the Seattle area with the kids as soon as it was safe to return, which wouldn't be for a while though because of the pollution. Not long after the quake I met Edward's family when they sailed back from Alaska to view the damage to their property. Their house had virtually disappeared, but the foundations had remained intact and the insurance companies quickly gave Carlisle the go-ahead to get it re-built. It took over two years, but eventually a beautiful house emerged from the wreckage and this time it included an extension for Edward, me and the kids who loved living next to the sea, even though it had taken their mother away from them. Carly quietly said to me one day that the sea was her mother's grave, and it helped her being able to look at it every day of her life, which was a very mature way of dealing with a tragic situation.

We told the kids fairly quickly that Edward and his family were vampires. Luke was very inquisitive and had been asking too many questions, like why doesn't Edward eat McDonalds, or why his hands were always cold, so we had to be straight with them before they started boasting to their friends in their new school that their foster dad was really weird. Carly freaked out initially which was understandable, but Luke was very impressed and wanted to know every gory detail. We both stressed the importance of keeping this a secret so they could remain living with us, which they vowed to do and obviously have continued doing, since nothing untoward has happened to us during the eleven years we've been responsible for them.

Charlie recovered from the transplant but he never really returned to full health. He found out from Billy he was the recipient of Jake's liver a few months after the operation. Billy told him one day he'd allowed Jake organs to be used for transplant purely because he knew of Charlie's unsuccessful search for a donor. But the night when he'd had to take the decision to switch off life-support after he'd been told there was no hope Jake would recover, he had no idea that Jake would be a perfect match for Charlie. It was only when Charlie was back in Forks that he began to suspect what might have happened, which was after Charlie dropped into a conversation that his donor must have been a native American to have his rare blood type. Before saying anything to Charlie, Billy found out what Jake's blood type was, then asked Charlie what his was, and then he realised what had most likely happened. It was an emotional time for both of them, but especially for Billy, knowing that part of his son was still 'living' and had been responsible for keeping his best friend alive.

Charlie officially retired from the police about two years after his operation and spent most of his days fishing or spending time with Billy or Sue's family. Last year he got really ill again and was eventually diagnosed with cancer, this time in his lymph nodes. He went through the usual treatments but all of us knew it was just a matter of time. He died peacefully in February and I miss him dreadfully, which is one of the reasons I'm soaking up the tranquillity of Assisi so I can try to come to terms with his loss.

Of course Charlie's death means I'm now free to become like Edward, which is another reason I came to Assisi a week ago so I could think carefully about taking the momentous decision without the distractions of everyday life around me. There's nothing stopping me on the mothering front now as both the kids are independent and can definitely cope without me for a while. Carly has just turned twenty-four and is a graphic design artist working in a tech company in San Francisco. Luke is in his final year of doing a Fine Art degree at my old college in New York and hasn't yet decided what to do as a career, but he loves being in the big city and I doubt whether he'll ever come back to Seattle to live permanently. So my role as a hands-on mother is now over and there's nothing stopping me crossing the line so I can be with Edward for eternity.

As I sit on my rickety chair drinking a glass of chilled white wine after eating a plate of freshly sliced tomatoes and goats cheese which had exquisitely flavoured olive oil and a tiny amount of salt drizzled over it, (in other words making the most of food and drink while I still can), I'm watching Edward, sorry, Eduardo, wandering towards me across the sun-drenched piazza and I still can't believe how lucky I am. He is devoted to me as I am to him, and the thought that we'll spend eternity together just blows my mind. I know I look older than him now; in fact I spotted a gray hair a few months ago which totally shocked me, but he doesn't care. He's always telling me how beautiful I am even though I'm physically ten years older than him now. Of course he's actually six-hundred and thirteen years older than me in years, but we'll ignore that crazy fact.

Behind him are his family following him in pairs. Emmett and Rosalie are first, who I've come to know well and love very much. Emmett is great fun. He's like an adorable, bouncy puppy who will never, ever mature. Rosalie is a princess in every way but has been an enormous help to me with the children when they were both teenagers and especially when Edward and I wanted to go away on our own, as having teenagers in the house isn't ideal if privacy is desired.

Following Emmett and Rosalie are Alice and Jasper, who are mine and Edward's greatest friends. I've never been jealous of the connection Alice has with Edward as the love they have for each other is nothing like the type of love I have for Edward. She loves me for making Edward so happy and I love her for putting her own life on the line to help Edward save the children and thousands of other people as well. Jasper hasn't changed at all since becoming a vampire and thankfully he's been able to come out of hiding now, so that's a relief for all of us.

Bringing up the rear are Carlisle and Esme, who I know are thrilled to be back in the country of their birth for the first time in over a hundred years. When Carlisle sailed Lugano into Italian waters a week ago and caught his first sight of the spectacular coastline with its beautiful villages built into the rocks and the lush rolling countryside stretching as far as the eye could see, I watched the tough outer shell of this five hundred year old vampire crack into a hundred pieces as his face crumpled with emotion. He's still quite scary on the surface, but over the past eleven years I've got to know him well and can genuinely say he's the most honest and fair man I have ever met. If he was human, I would put him charge of the United Nations in a heartbeat, because he would definitely make the world a much kinder, fairer and safer place under his watch.

Esme really is the most perfect person you could ever wish for as a 'mother-in-law', and has been a wonderful support to me during Charlie's illness and after he passed away. I haven't seen my own mother in years. She's happy in Florida with her randy husband and I get the occasional text message from her, but I doubt whether I'll ever see her again.

I stand up as my new family approaches and hug each one of them in turn. I can see people are staring at them because as a group they are so beautiful, or maybe they can sense they are different but cannot figure out why.

When Carlisle and Esme approach me for their hug, instead I drop a demure courtesy. "Your Majesties," I proclaim and they both start to laugh; even Carlisle.

"None of that rubbish," Esme giggles. "Carlisle and I are nothing like Aro. We may be the new rulers of Volterra, but we're not like that pompous relic who wafted around the castle like a prehistoric ghost. This is a new era for our kind and one I hope you're ready to join now?"

"Yes, Esme. I've finally made my mind up. That gray hair was what did it for me. I don't think I can cope with the trauma of finding another one."

Everyone roars with laughter at that and then Edward sweeps me up in his arms.

"So it's not just about me?"

"No!" I giggle and kiss him on the nose.

"There's no rush, Bella," he whispers in my ear as he spins me around.

"I know, Edward, but I've chosen my life; I want to start living it," I whisper back as he brings me back down to earth.

"With me?"

"With all of you, but especially with you, my darling. _Sei la mia via adesso_."

Edward smiles at me as I say the words he often whispers to me, which are the same words he said after we'd first made love.

"You are my life now," he repeats but in English this time, which doesn't sound nearly as romantic as when he says it in Italian, but to be honest, right now I don't really care!

* * *

 _I'm supposing you're wondering whether I ever wrote that book; you know the one I told Jay I was going to write that was supposed to stop the art world in its tracks; the one where I'd discovered what was in the hearts and minds of all those incredible artists from the past._

Well, I did write the book, but it will never be published. How could it be when the source of the vast majority of my 'research' was the memory of a six hundred year-old vampire who could tell me almost everything I needed to know without having to carry out any investigative work. All I had to do was listen, transfixed, to Edward's amazing stories that stretched from 1384 to the present day. I wish I could share them with the world, but alas, some things have to remain hidden forever.

Of course, vampires are supposed to stay in the shadows, so, like _Eduardo Antonio Masinelli_ , whose name should have been as famous as the other great artists of the time, _Isabella Marie Swan_ will never be a famous name in the art or literary world, but I'm totally content with that.

Art history has always been my passion and a huge part of my life and will continue to be so for eternity, because I'm fortunate to be in possession of a living piece of art history of my very own. Every night I snuggle up to Michelangelo's 'David', who as well as being the most classically beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on, he is also the only living recipient of knowledge passed on to him by the world's second-greatest lover, (after Edward of course), Giacomo Girolamo Casanova.

 _Aren't I just the luckiest girl in the world?_

* * *

 **The End**

* * *

I think she is, don't you?

 **I hope you've enjoyed finding out what happened to Edward and Bella and their families and friends after the disaster, and I hope I've tied up every loose end? I've hit the 'complete' button (sniff), but can always sneak in another sentence or two if it's required.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. I've loved all the comments, the guesses, the questions; even the (constructive) criticisms. I'm grateful to each and every one of you. I'm always sad when a story comes to an end as it's been such a joy communicating with you all. For future readers, do let me know if you enjoyed the story.**

 **To end, I would like to dedicate this story to JudyBlue95, (Judy Edson Sokolowski), who read each one of my six stories and reviewed every chapter religiously and sometimes hysterically funnily. We would chat about all sorts of things on the PM side of the site as well and I heard about her life, her politics, her love for Rob and, more recently, for Timothee Chalamet (why?). She lived in California so we never met, but we kept in touch between stories through Facebook. Her last review was on 8th September but she died suddenly a week later. I'm already missing her sense of humor, her philosophical comments on life in general and, most of all, her dry wit. Thankfully I'll be able to recall our 'chats' by revisiting our long drawn-out conversations that are preserved in the memory bank of this awesome site.**

 **Until the next time (don't know when, but hopefully sometime next year). Keep well, keep supporting Fanfiction, and stay in touch.**

 **Joan (aka Michaelmas54) xxx**


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